Servants Series 7
by ss9
Summary: The patter of tiny feet at Taplows but will everything go as well as planned? How is Molly coping with her new duties and how is Walter coping with a hormonally charged wife.
1. Episode 1

It had been six months, two days and fourteen hours since he had last laid eyes on his wife, not as Felix kept sniggering, that he was keeping a tally or anything…

"It won't be long now sir!" Mr Adams piped up, sending the butler a knowing look. "Less than an hour and you'll be curled up in front of your own fire with a certain wee lassie fussing over you."

"And you Andrew?" Jarvis retorted smugly, knowing his under-butler's own private hope, after all it had hardly been a secret over the last few weeks just who Mr Adams was hoping had managed to arrange for a little detour south of the border.

"Aye well lets not out count our chickens, as your mother is so found of saying sir."

"Indeed…Indeed…" Jarvis trailed off unable to restrain his frustration, finding himself tapping out his impatience on the carriage door until an irritated Felix could restrain himself no longer.

"Walter for goodness sake! Stop that infernal irritating noise!"

"What…What did I do?" The Butler stuttered.

"THE TAPPING!" Both Felix and Andrew exclaimed at once causing the startled butler to sit back in his seat.

"You only had to ask." Jarvis mumbled sulkily crossing his arms and staring out the window.

"We just did Walter." The chef retorted. "We know you are anxious to see Flora again, in fact I don't think there has been a spare moment in the last six months when we ever doubted that fact…Hell even when you were bent double throwing up my laboriously created delicacies, first on the boat and then when you caught that dickey tummy bug…"

"Yes, Yes thank you I think I remember I have no need for you to remind me!" Jarvis snapped reaching into his attaché case and pulling out his now crammed journal.

"You aren't going to write in that thing at a time like this now are you?" Felix teased. "After all you're seeing her in now a matter of minutes, not much more to add surely?"

"I'm just leaving my wife a brief note, something about needing to remind a certain chef and under-butler who employed them in the first place!" Jarvis trailed off smirking as the two men opposite him visibly tensed.

"That's a cheap shot Walter!" Felix hissed, flicking his hair away from his face in his typically effeminate manner. "And besides Flora would undoubtedly agree with me."

"Aye he's got a point there sir…" Adams gleefully added watching as the butler's face grew more and more beetroot but before Jarvis could come up with a suitable retort one of the footmen yelled out.

"We're home!"

Suddenly excited all three men tried to crane their necks to stare out of the carriage door wincing as they suddenly and unexpectedly bashed heads.

"Gentlemen!" Jarvis snapped holding his now throbbing head, his immediate worry that he would have to greet his wife with a nasty looking red mark throbbing on his forehead. "Can we all try to remember we are all adults, then perhaps some of us will start acting as such!"

"Oh aye so now we're the immature ones…" Andrew began intending to remind the butler just whose idea it had been on their long trip to amuse themselves by playing sick pranks on a certain valet but the look on Jarvis's face was enough to stop him in his tracks.

"It would be such a shame if when we arrive I felt the need to place a certain under-butler personally in charge of all the unpacking instead of the irritating Mr Forest, such a task would certainly keep him occupied for hours, far too busy to undertake any quick excursion above stairs he might be planning!"

"Fine!" Adams snapped crossing his arms and glaring back at the butler. "If that's the way you want to play it then I might just have to drop in passing conversation to a certain pregnant housekeeper that her husband was hardly the model of virtue whilst we were away and in fact…"

"What?" Felix cut in suddenly concerned. "Did something happen that I don't know about? I knew it would be a bad idea letting the two of you share, I'm surprised you didn't drink yourselves into such a stupor you accidentally walked over board!"

"It's nothing Felix!" Jarvis snapped his severe tone indicating to all that it was very much not nothing. "Just Andrew making something out of nothing as usual and if he isn't careful he'll find himself on the wrong side of my boot, kicking his pimpled Scottish behind back up to the highlands."

"I'd like to see you try it." Adams mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for the butler to hear above the sound of the clattering horseshoes over cobbles.

Suddenly the convoy came to a stop and both Walter and Andrew made a dash for the door, succeeding in wedging themselves both firmly in the small opening.

"Mr Adams what did I say about your fat arse being in my way!" Jarvis snapped trying to elbow his under-butler out the way. "It's about time you learnt your place." He added as he managed to shove Andrew out the way.

"Oh go ahead, age before beauty as they say…"Adams snorted earning him a disapproving look from the butler.

"I am going to find my wife…Do try to make yourself useful for once Mr Adams!" Jarvis snorted over his shoulder as he turned and entered the house. Adams pausing for a moment, barking a few orders at a certain William Forest to take over before surreptitiously sneaking off round the other side of the house, hang Jarvis and his bloody secrets he was going to see if his lady love was indeed here as she had promised.

Meanwhile the Butler had exactly the same thing on his mind, well a different lady, but the love of his life none the less; the only problem was finding the damn woman! Shouldn't she have been waiting in the courtyard for him, all morning long if necessary? Failing that was it too much to expect her to be near by, in her office or failing that in his? So far his scouring of the servants quarters by himself had proved fruitless so he whirled round and storming into the kitchen he grabbed hold of the nearest maid and demanded to know in his usually straightforward although some would say brusque manner just where the hell was Mrs Corey?

"In her room…" Blubbered the new maid, her eyes wide in terror at the irate gentlemen who had so rudely and suddenly grabbed her arm.

"What the devil is she doing in there?" Jarvis interrogated.

"Changing…She spilt the…" But the poor girl never got the chance to finish her sentence as the butler was out the door and storming towards the room he and Flora shared. Then the idea struck him perhaps if she was already up in their room changing he might be able to persuade her to take a little rest….

At such a thought he was unable to suppress the naughty smile that tugged at his lips, six months was far too long for newlyweds to be apart, as the poor Mr Adams had found on a regular basis when he discovered the butler had an annoying propensity to talk in his sleep. Putting aside the disturbing thought that Andrew Adams probably now knew more about his superiors fantasy life than even the his wife did, Jarvis concentrated on surprising his wife, suddenly realising he had left the little tokens he had brought her in the carriage along with his journal.

Cursing his own stupidity he quickly dashed along their corridor, purposefully avoiding their room and darting into the main body of the house where he quickly found one of his wife's beautiful flower arrangements. Snapping off the most beautiful red rose he could find he then turned back and headed towards their room, placing the stem between his teeth as he made his dramatic entrance.

Seeing she wasn't in their sitting room he crept into the bedroom, squinting in the poor light as he spotted the silhouette by the wardrobe dutifully folding clean linen and putting it away.

"Darling I'm home!" He called out through clenched teeth so it sounded somewhat garbled but the essence was still there, grasping the stunned lady inside by the arm, spinning her round and bending her down for a dramatic kiss closing his eyes in anticipation.

"I don't know who you are calling Darling Mr Jarvis but somehow I doubt it's me!" A sharp mocking Scottish voice hissed just before he planted a passionate kiss on her.

Shocked the butler simply let her go and the stunned and unbalanced deputy housekeeper could do nothing to stop herself from slumping to the floor.

"Well if this is how you would treat your wife Mr Jarvis then I am very glad not to be her!" Molly snapped waving aside the butler's offer of assistance and getting up from the floor all by herself.

"I thought…I'm sorry…but what are you doing in here and where's Flora?"

"Probably down in the courtyard wondering the very same thing about you!" Molly retorted rubbing her sore elbows before snatching up the remaining clothing and this time shoving them into the wardrobe not caring if they creased. "I came and got her the moment I heard the carriages, she hadn't finished her task so I offered to finish it as she was so anxious to go see you. Honestly Mr Jarvis did you never think of waiting for her to come to you?"

"Well no I…." Walter began.

"Well I suggest you hurry and follow her before she decides to go off and try to find you, she won't have been there long."

"Thank you." He called out over his shoulder as he turned to leave.

"Oh Mr Jarvis." Molly added. "I think you'll be wanting this…" She added handing him the rose which now looked somewhat worse for wear mainly because the butler had bitten through the stem with the shock and the head now hung pathetically to one side. "I suggest you get another one, just don't go breaking that one I would like some roses left in my arrangement!"

Somewhat abashed the butler accepted the mutilated flower and made his escape, snapping off the head and placing it in his button hole he quickly garnered himself another before heading back downstairs.

Returning to the courtyard the first thought that struck him was chaos, carriages had been brought in higgledy piggledy, boxes had been unloaded and then dumped on the stone cobbles people were yelling 'hellos' and 'how are you's' across the space but there was one voice that stood out amongst the mealy and that had a distinctive Irish lilt to it as it called for order. For a moment Jarvis simply stood and listened to his wife's voice, smiling as he heard her reprimanding the porter's footmen and telling them to sort this mess out.

Walking towards the sound he caught a fleeting glimpse of her face as she stormed past one of the carriages, and desperate to see more he followed like Paris drawn to his Helen.

Then suddenly she appeared in front of him and the sight literally took his breath away, from the back she hardly looked any different but then she turned, calling Grace over and reaching into her pocket gave the young maid a well worn and crumpled piece of paper. She was breathtaking, and so big….

He knew of course that she would be, after all she would seven months gone by the time he returned and he knew in his mind technically what that would be like but somehow he had never been able to picture his Flora like that; now all he wanted to do was rush over and pull her into his arms and run his hands all over her just make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. She was fine, their baby was obviously thriving and at such a thought Jarvis finally let out that metaphorical breath he had been holding practically since the moment he had left her on the platform.

Then suddenly Flora turned, it was if instinctively she suddenly realised he was watching and as he drew closer he saw the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

"Walter." She whispered her eyes closed as she savoured the moment.

"Yes my love." He answered softly reaching out and brushing his hand down the side of her face before leaning forward and pulling her as much into his embrace as he could manage.

"You're home…" She gasped, tears now freely flowing down her cheeks as she opened her eyes and looked at him.

"It would appear so my darling…But why the tears, you don't want me to leave again do you?" He teased, blinking back his own tears as his wife flung her arms round his neck and kissed him soundly.

"Never, don't you ever leave me again!" Flora gasped once they had come up for air.

"I won't I promise, I'll never leave you alone again." He replied earnestly, kissing her soundly once more before escorting her back into the house.

"Lady Rebecca?" Adams called out formally, in case she had company, as he peered around the door into the library, keeping a firm ear out for any footsteps heading his way. It had been a strange request of hers to ask to meet in here and not her bedroom, but he had taken it as the peculiars of pregnancy and had thought not much of it, except to fleetingly ponder whether it may very well have been because she wasn't in the mood for much else except talking even though they had been apart for nearly seven months. He had now stepped fully into the room, slightly puzzled at not being able to see her at first, but as he quickly turned his head he saw a sight not even his own imagination could have really prepared him for, and in an instant it had completely taken his breath away.

"Andrew! My darling!" Rebecca breathed, placing a book back on the shelf and darting over to him as quickly as she could under the sheer weight she seemed to be carrying. Adams gasped and smiled, unsure what to make of the complete transformation which had undergone his lover in his absence, but quickly he thought her to be a beautiful sight as his eyes took in her excited, expectant eyes, the soft but definite flush of her cheeks and her large belly which for a moment looked like she had simply stuffed her pillows up her dress.

As she approached him, her arms outstretched, the reality of her pregnancy hit him for the first time. He had fantasised about what she must now look like, how big her stomach must have grown, but also he had worried for her safety every minute of every day and dreaded returning in case the worst had happened. He had seen just how scared Jarvis had been for Flora; he may not have put it into words all that much - well to him at least - but he could tell and he had been desperate to share his own fears. Instead he had taken to his diary, not wishing to speak to anyone about it for fear of breaking down in tears, as that of course would never do, he wouldn't have heard the last of it if bloody William Forest had caught him blubbing like a baby.

"My God thank goodness you are alright." Adams sighed as she practically fell into his arms, however the swell of her stomach was getting firmly in the way of much embracing so instead the under-butler ran his hand over her hot face and kissed her inviting lips firmly, his first touch of affection since their parting kiss in what felt like a lifetime ago.

After a minute or so of simply enjoying the feel of each other, their lips broke apart and Rebecca nuzzled her face into the stiff collar of his shirt, smiling in contentment. Suddenly she let out a small gasp then smiled, reaching for his hand and placing it on her stomach.

"Can you feel it?" She whispered in his ear. "I know I am used to it, and now getting downright fed up with it through all my sleepless nights, but I have dreamt of you lying with me and able to feel them kicking away, you can tell they have Adams blood in them."

Adams beamed proudly, he was indeed feeling small movements and he realised what he had missed out on, never knowing of Lizzie before her birth. It felt strange to know that one day soon he would suddenly be a father of three instead of one, but it also felt incredibly right. "You're forgetting your own fighting spirit, Rebecca my love." He reminded her, kissing her forehead.

"Anyway I think it should be me who is pleased that you are alright." Rebecca laughed gently, sliding her arms under his jacket. "I have missed you so much, I have felt so alone, especially up in Scotland. The estate was so dreary and Father will not let me manage my own affairs, he won't stop interfering! He says it's for my own good but that's ridiculous, it's not for me it's for the twins, and I'm so scared Andrew!"

Rebecca gulped hard and looked up at Adams, the excitement in her eyes at seeing him now gone and replaced with an incomprehensible fear which sliced through Adams to the core. He feared Lord Farquarson may have wanted a hand in bringing up his grandchildren, well at least any boys Rebecca may bear, but there seemed much more to it than that. Rebecca would never be in such a panic over things such as the schooling and religious teaching her father may insist her children have if she knew she would be able to see them every day. She looked to him like a woman in desperate fear of losing them, and he realised quickly there was much he had missed since his rather inconvenient excursion to Asia.

"What's happened!" Adams demanded, placing his finger under her chin and lifting her head as a tear released itself from her eye and stung her blushed cheek. "I need to know, I have been cut off from you for too long! I bet that sister of yours has had a hand in encouraging your father, and I won't stand for it!"

Rebecca released her hold on Adams, sensing an incredible fury building inside him, and she hadn't even told him everything yet. Too many months apart from her and she had been left vulnerable to the scheming of Francesca and the tyranny of her father, and Adams felt he had let her down just when she needed him most and that was unforgivable. It was if he sensed what she was going to say, that Lord Farquarson was inadvertently going to prevent him from seeing the love of his life, and his children, ever again.

"He keeps saying that it's what Hugo would have wanted, when I know he would never have agreed to it, but every time I try and talk to him he won't listen, saying now Hugo's dead he's in charge of me again!" Rebecca blurted out, gripping onto Adams' sleeve as he shot a worried glance towards the door, a small part of him concerned that someone of aristocratic blood may suddenly barge in and see Rebecca in a state.

"That's rubbish, he's not in charge of you!" Adams growled in a hushed tone, grasping her hand and holding it tightly to his chest. "You're a woman of wealth now, you don't have to listen to the old fool any longer, you can make your own decisions, please tell me what he's been saying to you, so I can think of how to stop it, I'll not lose you Rebecca, not after everything, not after all this time……Rebecca!" The under-butler gasped in sudden horror as his sweetheart suddenly cried out in pain, her hand weakening in his grasp as her knees buckled, her other hand flying up to the side of her stomach. "Rebecca what is it!" Adams asked frantically as she began to pant, breathing heavily as the look of agony on her face was replaced with one of pure shock. She looked down and whimpered when she saw a clear pool appear at her feet and once Adams saw what she was staring at he began to stutter in confusion. "What…what's happening to you! Are you sick! Surely that's a bad sign!"

"Oh bloody hell!" Rebecca strained as she doubled up, Adams for an extremely fleeting and inexplicable moment finding her expletive astonishing for such sweet, aristocratic lips. "I think…it's started!"

"Started!" Adams gulped, helplessly waving his arms around Rebecca as she backed into a chair and awkwardly flopped into it while making a rather unattractive guttural screech. She sucked in a mouthful of air and held it. "STARTED!" He repeated unhelpfully, much to Rebecca's annoyance.

"Yes, started, Andrew! The babies, they're coming, they must be, I've not had anything like this before, apart from a small incident last month when I thought I was about to, but it was nothing compared to this!" Rebecca gasped breathlessly, groaning as she slid her hand under her stomach. "Emily told me what to expect, what to feel, the water's just normal….damn it Andrew why are you just standing there, go and get help! More specifically go and get Flora and Molly, I don't want my sister to know, not yet!"

"I can't leave you!" Adams shouted in panic, frantically snatching at cushions and shoving them behind Rebecca's back in an attempt to make her comfortable, but he could tell by the expression on her face that nothing short of getting those babies out of her would make her better, and that was something he certainly had to leave up to her and the encouraging words of others better equipped than him to deal with this alien situation. "I'll ring the bell!"

"No, don't!" Rebecca ordered frantically as the second surge of pain overwhelmed her. "Didn't you listen to what I said, I don't want everyone to know yet, and anyway there's no time, go and get Flora, and the doctor!"

For a second Adams paused, rooted to the spot as his brain attempted to comprehend the sight before him. His emotions were in turmoil, he couldn't bear to see his lover and the mother of his children in pain and that filled him with sadness and apprehension, but at the same time he felt a surge of incredible happiness. To his surprise, Rebecca reached out and clasped his fingers, gazing into his eyes reassuringly and forcing a smile.

"It'll be fine, don't worry." She whispered in an incredibly calm voice under the circumstances, sensing that Adams' panic was preventing him from being any use to her whatsoever. "In a few hours we shall have two beautiful children and the rest of our lives together, you'll see. I'm a couple of weeks early I think but I'm sure it'll be alright. It has to be."

Adams bent down and kissed her softly on her sweating brow, but as the urgency of what was happening hit him he knew he had to be strong and that meant staying strong and doing exactly what she wanted, even if that did mean leaving her on her own in the library for a few minutes. "I love you so much. You can do this, I know you can." Rebecca simply nodded, unable to speak while the pain and instinct to push controlled her every thought.

"I'll be back very, very soon, just stay there!"

Rebecca rolled her eyes, where else would she go? Into the drawing room for a spot of sewing while she was waiting for the first baby to show up? With a proud smile, Adams hurried out of the room and headed straight for the servants quarters at top speed ready to accost the first female senior member of staff he came across, hardly prepared for the long, long wait he would have to endure before it would finally all be over.

Meanwhile downstairs oblivious to the dramatics that were taking lace in the library a very contented Mr and Mrs Corey were settling down in the butler's pantry.

hi

"I made sure we had lemon cake for your arrival, it's not like you would have any of that in India..." Flora prattled on as she poured the tea, oblivious to her husband's stares as he watched fascinated as she moved effortlessly aground the room despite the load she was carrying. "Do you want sugar?" She asked, then when after a prolonged silence she turned round, hands on hips. "Walter are you even listening to a word I said?"

"Mnn…What dearest?" Jarvis mumbled, realising he had been caught off guard and trying his best to sound placating.

"Honestly you're away for months then when you get back you ignore me…."

"I was thinking…"

"So that gives you an excuse to ignore me then?" Flora snapped, her cheeks quickly flushing with anger.

"I was thinking how you look even more beautiful then I remembered." Jarvis countered getting to his feet and drawing his now wavering wife into his arms and kissing her softly on the lips before trailing off down her neck. "And how much I missed you…And god damnit I have far more entertaining things on my mind than lemon cake and bloody tea!"

"So you don't want your cake then…" Flora asked coyly.

"No I want to have my cake and eat it!" Jarvis replied cheekily sliding his hands down to her bottom and giving it a quick squeeze. "Six months is far far too long my love…"

"Walter Corey what are you suggesting…."

"I think you know very well my love what I am suggesting, I think perhaps we both could do with a little lie down."

"That's disgraceful talk, propositioning a heavily pregnant woman and in the middle of the day as well!" Flora retorted in a mockingly shocked voice.

"Well it is night-time somewhere on the globe."

"Yes but not at Taplows…Walter would you stop that right now!" Flora demanded as her impatient husband began unbutton her dress. "We're in your office, in the middle of the day, and you just know any moment your mother is going to come barging in…"

"So let's go upstairs and lock the door." Jarvis countered reaching down and grasping her delicate hand his own and literally dragging her towards the door.

"Well it's not like I have any choice…" Flora mumbled before wincing slightly as her hand flew to her stomach an action which automatically had her husband panicking all amorous thoughts fleeing as fear set in.

"What is it, what's wrong?"

"Nothing it's just your child deciding to wake up… She's been dancing a jig on my bladder for the last few weeks and now I think she's graduated to a full fledged Irish dance routine."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No Walter. I just need to sit, it helps…" She trailed off as her husband helped her to his fireside chair before pulling over his desk chair and sitting next to her.

"You can touch you know she won't bite. "Flora teased watching as Walter tentatively reached out and laid his hand on her stomach. "Lower down and to the right." She instructed watching as his face practically lit up with delight as another well placed kick distorted the skin just below his hand.

"Quite the little athlete we have here." Walter mumbled after a few minutes of sitting entranced.

"Yes well I'm just glad we're only having one, Rebecca was a good ten inches bigger than me at seven months."

"Oh so she made it down…Been comparing bumps have we? Just as long as you haven't been comparing anything else?" Jarvis snorted disapprovingly.

"Perhaps we have, perhaps we haven't Walter I know you don't approve of her being here but it has been so incredibly dull without you, Molly has been a treasure but sometimes your mother…."

"What has she been up to now?"

"Taking over that's what! Sometimes it isn't difficult to see who you take after…First she stops me from doing hardly any of my duties, the next she sending me to bed at nine and now she has totally taken over sorting out the baby's things I can't say anything without her tutting and reminding me she knows more about this than I do. You have to do something Walter I swear I don't know if I can stand it much longer!" Flora broke off unable to suppress the tears that once more appeared in her eyes.

"This is our baby and I know she means well but I'm getting so paranoid now that I question everything I do so much I end up doing nothing at all. Damnit when this child is born I swear if she could find a way to breastfeed it herself she would just to show me the right way of doing things…."

"Surely it can't be that bad."

"Not that bad… I suppose you think I'm exaggerating some feeble pregnant female reaction well you haven't been here so how would you know how bad it's been?"

"Oh so now its back to being my fault?"

"I didn't say that!"

"Yes you did, it's my fault because I left, and it's my fault because it's my mother, anything else that I should be aware of?"

"Not yet but it's still early!" Flora retorted angrily, levering herself out of the chair and wobbling over to the door.

"Where are you going?" Walter demanded getting to his feet and following her to the door. "I thought we were going to have a little lie down?"

"I'm going for some air!" Flora snapped. "You must be delusional if you think I am in the mood for that now."

"But…" Jarvis began determined to think of some stellar argument that would win her round once more but before he add anything Molly came darting round the corner.

"Flora dear hurry we need you."

"Why what's happened?"

"Rebecca's labour has started, Mr Jarvis welcome back but could you send for the doctor and keep it quiet she doesn't want certain people to find out…" Molly trailed off nodding upstairs at an imaginary nobility.

"Yes of course." Flora replied dashing off to her office in search of her medicine box without even a backwards glance at her now fuming husband.

"Flora!" Rebecca exclaimed Flora bustled quickly into the room, Molly frantically trying to take the medicine box from her grasp and to slow her down. The under-housekeeper clicked her tongue and shook her head; Flora had been doing far too much recently and she just would not let Molly take over many of her duties, no matter how much she had nagged on at her, and she suddenly regretted fetching her at all. She should have left her in the arms of her husband, she and Emily could have dealt with this situation and Dr Evans was now on his way and she may have been none the wiser until she heard the babies' healthy cries echoing around the house.

Molly hurried over to Lady Rebecca, shooting her brother a glance as he stood helplessly, but all the while thinking how awful it would be if something went wrong, that would certainly be something Flora shouldn't witness and she was sure Mr Jarvis wouldn't thank her for exposing his wife to such upset. Molly felt her own private grief for the child she never had beginning to surface but she knew she had to keep it suppressed, she would be no good to anyone if she began to inexplicably weep. She knew she still had time, although not much, although any child she might conceive would be out of wedlock to a certain Lord. She had resigned herself to remaining childless as she had hardly seen her lover in the last few months, and anyway it was probably for the best, what with her husband still out there and to her knowledge not in the slightest bit dead.

"Do you want me to help lift her? What…what should I do?" Adams asked Flora weakly, feeling even more useless than before as Rebecca smiled with joy through her pain as finally the cavalry had arrived. Somehow Adams knew that he would be the most awkward, unimportant, incidental person to Flora, Molly and even Rebecca during the drama of Rebecca's labour and he hated not being in control of the situation. Not even giving Forest a bloody good thump could make him feel any better, so he knew how he felt was hopeless.

"What should you do?" Flora repeated in what seemed to him a slightly condescending tone, obviously baffled by such a strange question as she stared at him in disbelief. Rebecca shrieked in pain again, her contractions coming slightly faster now as Flora and Molly lifted her out of the chair by her arms and supported her weight between them. Flora's own state didn't allow for her to take much of Rebecca's weakening body so Molly took the brunt of her, her slender frame deceptively strong.

Flora glanced back over her shoulder, realising she hadn't answered poor Mr Adams' question. "Oh, there's nothing you can _do_ Mr Adams, you're a man and unless you're the doctor I suggest you stay well away as this does not concern you. Find Mr Jarvis and ask for a stiff brandy, you're going to need it." She said sagely. For the first time in his life Adams felt inadequate for simply being a man.

"Doesn't concern me?" He began, sniffing out a laugh and desperately trying to catch Rebecca's gaze, but she looked in no state to be defending him, if she even cared a jot at that moment. "But Mrs Corey, it does concern me, surely….."

"You have done your bit, Mr Adams, now let Lady Rebecca finish hers!" Flora announced hotly, Adams flushing as he glanced over at his sister to see if there was a flicker of embarrassed recognition on her face from such a comment. "And besides, if you are hanging around what would Lord Farquarson think, Lady Francesca knows too much already without you causing more trouble, now do as I say for once and find Mr Jarvis! You will know any news as soon as we can get any to you."

Adams had nothing left to say, Flora was right, he had to stay away and he would get to see Rebecca and the children in time. He felt it slightly wrong that he wasn't able to be there for her, to hold her hand and tell her how well she is doing, but it was laughable that any sane woman, or doctor, would let the father of the child into the room during what was essentially a womanly act and he couldn't foresee such a time when that would be acceptable. Still, he couldn't help feeling utterly useless, he would take all Rebecca's pain and endure it himself if he could.

"Do as Mrs Corey says, Andrew." Molly urged in a less sharp tone than the housekeeper's, noticing her brother's turmoil while Rebecca whimpered and muttered something about not being able to do this and never doing it ever again. Andrew wasn't sure if by 'it' she meant sex or babies or both, but he could forgive anything she was obviously saying in haste – in fact it was apparent she had no idea what she was saying, quite blamelessly.

"Andrew, stay near! I need you!" Rebecca called out breathlessly, reaching out in a rather unsubtle gesture, but Flora noticed to her dismay Lord Farquarson marching into the hallway, booming orders to his valet.

"I won't go far, I promise, I'll be here for you." Adams whispered, only able to briefly clasp her sweating fingers. "You'll be fine, the doctor will be here soon….." "Hold on My Lady, we'll get you to your room." Molly soothed as the two women dashed Rebecca towards the main staircase. "Emily's preparing everything you need, she knows what she's doing, she's been through it all twice remember."

Adams was utterly fed up with pacing up and down Jarvis' office, he was sick of the sight of the four walls which surrounded him and he couldn't hear Rebecca in the slightest. He wished he was nearer, even if that meant having to endure listening to her muffled screams of agony, at least he would be able to know what was going on to a certain extent. He glanced at his pocket watch – the one Rebecca had given him and remained his most valued possession. It had been hours now, he was convinced, but on looking at the time he saw that it had only been ten minutes since he had last stared at it. Sighing soundly the under-butler flopped into Jarvis' armchair and rubbed his forehead, completely wound up with anxiety but also strangely bored.

Jarvis had ordered him to stay there, and not to move until he came back with news. He had had the foresight to realise that his under-butler would probably be as much use as a chocolate teapot in carrying out his duties and he was bound to make a mistake, whether it be polishing the wooden dining table with silver polish or miscounting the items brought back from India, so instead of letting him make a fool of himself and earning a stern word from the Earl he had given him the rest of the afternoon off. Jarvis had thought that most generous of him, and thought that was it not for Flora's situation then he may not have been so understanding of Adams' anxiety, as he knew that really he should have been dismissed without character for impregnating an aristocrat and not given compassionate time off because of it. Jarvis simply concluded that he must be going soft in his old age, and the slightly worrying fact that he was so happy about impending fatherhood he couldn't stop grinning long enough to get all that annoyed with Mr Adams' stupidity.

The butler had stayed with Adams for a little while, sharing a drink and trying to calm his subordinate with reminiscing about that rather fun scam they got up to in India at the expense of that rather mysterious manservant the Earl temporarily acquired. As the time approached an hour, however, Adams had taken up the rather predictable habit of all expectant fathers of pacing frantically, simply grunting as Jarvis tried to make light conversation and drown him in whiskey. Jarvis had become rather twitchy himself, desperate to hunt out his wife whom he knew would be overworking herself on Lady Rebecca's behalf, so he downed the drink he had hardly touched and made for the door.

"Can you see if you can find out anything?" Adams had asked him hopefully as the clock above the fireplace chimed 4 o'clock.

"Well, I can try, but I am probably banned from going anywhere near the Lady's bedroom and I doubt I will be able to get much detail from any of the attending women." Jarvis had muttered thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

"Besides His Lordship needs me, I may be some time as there is plenty to sort out now we're back and I don't fancy leaving our Mr Forest in charge of the unpacking."

"Aye, sir, I understand." Adams replied mournfully. "It's probably far too early anyway, but if you hear anything…."

"I will find Dr Evans presently. As soon as I know anything….well, I will of course inform you." Jarvis tried to smile reassuringly, but he remembered only too well what had happened to the Countess and the Earl's firstborns – twins – all those years ago. He had secretly prayed Flora would not conceive twins as the death rate was far too high not to cause concern, but he felt this was hardly the time or the place to mention such grave statistics to Mr Adams.

Now, three hours on, and amazingly Jarvis still hadn't returned. Even Elizabeth hadn't come to find her father, as he thought she might do considering she hadn't seen him in months, but he then supposed she was used to not seeing him and there was still all that father-daughter bonding they had to catch up on. He had fallen asleep for nearly one hour of the three and had woken up feeling disorientated and rather sick, and that was when he had begun his rapid pacing again and glancing at his watch – and the clock, as if it would somehow read a different time – every ten minutes. Finally it became too much to bear, he couldn't foresee an end to the interminable waiting so building his resolve flung the door open to the pantry and stepped out, his first instinct to empty his full bladder.

There was maid he didn't recognise – obviously new – who took one glance at him as she hurried past and frowned furiously as if she had laid eyes on some hideous gargoyle. Well, Adams thought, not all women could see him for the handsome devil he was so more fool her. She looked too young for his tastes anyway, not much older than his own daughter he suspected, and he turned away cursing himself for letting his mind wander to more frivolous matters. Well, it had been a long time, and he had got used to the attention Lady Rebecca had lavished on him for the months she was at Taplows. He had been most well behaved while he had been abroad, of course temptations were everywhere and he had visited enough of the more seedier watering holes with Fred Matkin to know how the British colonialists liked their Asian entertainment, but he had stayed true to his Lady despite Fred's encouraging nudges.

He doubted she would ever know how hard it had been for him not to give in to certain ladies of pleasure and their exotic dancing, but somehow he presumed she wouldn't be up to talking about that right now…..

"Mr Adams."

Adams spun round to see Jarvis standing there, looking rather tired and ever so slightly put out. Quickly the under-butler tried to think of an excuse for not still sitting where he had been left hours ago, but he suddenly abandoned that train of thought when he saw the inexplicable look spreading across his superior's face.

"Mr Adams….Andrew." Jarvis began, indicating to him to step into his office. "Please, if you wouldn't mind."

Wouldn't mind! Adams thought, just tell me what's happened for God's sake! He did as requested, studying Jarvis carefully but not able to actually ask the questions he was so desperate to know the answers to. Jarvis, however, made sure he kept his eyes on the ground, on the window, even the ceiling – anywhere as long as he didn't have to look Adams in the eye.

"You have a son." The butler announced a little coldly, a ripple of a smile appearing across his lips. Adams suddenly exhaled the air he had been holding in for the past few seconds as the words sank in – a _son_ ! It was over, Rebecca had done it, he knew she could, and he felt so proud. But that was only one, Jarvis only mentioned _a_ son, there should be two children not just one……

"A son, that's wonderful, but Mr Jarvis, what about Rebecca, the second twin…..?" Adams breathed, a wave of nausea engulfing him as the butler's expression turned rather grave. He felt his legs weaken and it felt an eternity until Jarvis finally spoke again, running his fingers through his hair and sighing soundly in exhaustion.

"You should sit down, Andrew, you don't look to well and I think you should hear this in the comfort of my armchair….."

"Just tell me, Mr Jarvis, please!" Adams cried, unable to bear this tense atmosphere much longer. He refused to sit, his heart was thumping in his throat and the adrenalin pumping through him, he wanted to dash out of the room and to Rebecca, she must be desperately needing _him_ , not her father or Lady Caroline or any other aristocrat who pretended to care but had no idea what she must be going through. "Please sir, I can tell it's bad – just how bad?"

Jarvis nodded, how this pained him to tell Adams the news, he often believed he got what he deserved, especially now he had been such a bloody idiot by sleeping with the eldest daughter of a well respected aristocrat like Lord Farquarson, but he wouldn't wish this on his worst enemy – and that included Prothero. "Lady Rebecca gave birth to two boys, the first is healthy, how he should be, but the second…..I'm sorry Andrew but he only lived for minutes, he didn't even cry."

"Oh God." Adams gasped, reaching out to the mantelpiece to steady himself. He clasped his hand over his mouth, stifling the tears which were desperate to fall. "She said she was too early, I knew it….!"

"No, it wasn't that, yes he was small but Dr Evans said it was the cord, it was somehow wrapped around the little thing's neck, he was surprised he had lived that long, said it must've happened not long before the birth." Jarvis didn't know what to do, what else to say but the truth, and he knew Adams would thank it for him later. He reached out and grasped his under-butler's shoulder firmly, his eyes soft and almost tearful himself. What if this happened to his child? What if Flora fell as sick as Lady Rebecca was right now? "Andrew, it was an accident. You being nearer wouldn't have made a scrap of difference."

"Rebecca." Adams gulped, all the blood draining from his complexion as he made a dash for the door. "I must get to her – must see her!"

"Andrew, you can't, that's an order!" Jarvis said a little too firmly, frowning at his own short-temper. He was tired, it had been a long evening and all he wanted to do was be with Flora, hold her, and instead he had to try to comfort another man's loss without even knowing how. Adams spun on his heel, his eyes wide in terror, unable to mutter the words and make real what he feared most. "You can't see her, not yet, she's sick. Dr Evans says she's been through a lot, she's lost more blood than is normal and she fell unconscious after the second child was born, she doesn't even know he didn't make it. Dr Evans says she should live, but he won't know for certain for a couple of days. Her father is by her side right now."

Adams finally sank down into the armchair, leaning forward and cradling his head in his hands as his own selfish, grieving thoughts consumed him. He couldn't believe it, this surely wasn't true, Rebecca was strong, she wouldn't leave him, she promised. They were to be together forever, it was _meant_ to be. His only surviving son couldn't lose his mother, Lord Farquarson would take him away, he would never see his child again. His life would be over, an empty shell which once had everything to live for but had now cruelly been destroyed by fate.

"I can't lose her, I love her so much." Adams sniffed. His voice was so shaky he could barely catch his breath as he spoke. There was so much he had to say to her, and he couldn't bear the thought of her going through everything alone. He knew she would want him there, and if he couldn't be there for the hardest part then he could damn well be there now for her and his baby. "Mr Jarvis, I must go to her, you of all people must understand that."

"Well I can't physically restrain you, and I'm not about to." Jarvis said sagely. "But I must warn you that if you go up there now and try to get into her room you may be risking everything. Hasn't Lady Rebecca risked enough for both of you today?"

"With all due respect sir I think I have been to Lady Rebecca's room enough times to have practiced the art of subtlety." Adams said firmly, desperately trying to keep his stiff upper lip, but he wasn't fooling anyone, least of all himself. Without waiting for a response from the butler he leapt out of the chair, feeling he had been waiting long enough. He had to see her for himself, he needed to see his son – both of his sons. Rebecca was relying on him to be there, and when she wakes up she will expect to see him, to feel him stroking her brow soothingly and cradling their children. He didn't want Lord bloody Farquarson to be the one who she saw when she opened her eyes, shouting at her in no uncertain and harsh terms that she managed to kill one of her children but not to worry that's the beauty of having two of the blighters, there was an heir to Lord Hugo's fortune still breathing and that was all that mattered.

"Mr Adams." Jarvis called out as Adams reached the door. "Your son, Flora says he's beautiful. She says he has Lady Rebecca's eyes but your nose, poor bugger, oh yes and his hair is as fiery red as his mother's." For the first time Adams smiled, he hadn't considered the small person lying upstairs just waiting for his father to come to him and he wondered whether his half sister was watching over him. Rebecca wasn't the only one relying on Adams that night.

Jarvis stepped towards him, and to Adams' great surprise drew him into a manly hug. "She'll live, I'm sure she will. Now go to them if you must, your son is in Lord Harry's old room, it will be the temporary nursery."

Adams pulled away and wiped the rogue tear which had escaped, and Jarvis watched as he dashed away from the pantry, almost banging into Joe who was lugging a large box through along the corridor. With a thoughtful pause, the butler felt he needed a few moments alone before braving the emotional wreck which was Flora.

Therefore whilst the under butler was heading upstairs to see his second borne and his remarkably willed mother the butler was also heading upstairs in order to retrieve his own wife, who as the doctor had pointedly warned had been on her feet for far too long which couldn't be good for the child she herself carried. So Jarvis had the somewhat complicated and dangerous task of somehow persuading his wife to leave her place by her friends bedside and returning to her own for some much need rest and relaxation.

"Mrs Watson would you ask my wife to step outside." Jarvis whispered after having tapped on Lady Rebecca's door Molly Watson had answered it.

"Thank goodness." Molly had replied conspiratorially. "She won't listen to a word I say!"

"Well I doubt she'll listen to me either but I have to try!" Jarvis retorted dryly, peaking through the slender gap into the room beyond and catching sight of both his wife and Miss McDuff as they hovered around the bed, and although he couldn't hear what was being said he make out the angry look on Flora's tired face and her obvious obstinance. However despite her objections somehow Molly managed to manoeuvre Mrs Corey out the door to face her husband.

"Yes Walter?" Flora snapped, unable to hide the obvious exhaustion from her voice.

"Don't you yes Walter me!" The butler snapped, nodding at Molly who suddenly conspiratorially closed the door in front of them.

"What!" Flora exclaimed dashing towards the door intending to pound against the old oak but her husband caught her arm and pulled her away.

"That will not do any good and besides you are under doctor's orders, you have to go straight to bed and rest, at least eight hours he said and now I am back I intend to make sure you carry them out to the letter…AND no buts!" He added as he watched the fire enter his wife's eyes. "Unless of course you'd prefer to lose more than one baby today?"

"No…" Flora replied softly the tears brimming in her eyes. "You're right I do need to rest but what if Rebecca…"

"Mrs Watson will be there for her and I have it on a good authority a certain other member of staff will be watching over her closely! So it's off to bed with you Mrs Corey and that's a direct order!"

"I'm the housekeeper Mr Jarvis not one of your footmen!" Flora snorted.

"I wasn't ordering you as your superior I was ordering you as your devoted but concerned husband!" Jarvis retorted, gently taking her arm and escorting her back to their quarters.

It didn't take long to navigate the dark corridors and before long Jarvis was pushing open the door to their joint quarters, rooms that he himself had only spent one night in, but memories of that night, their wedding night were more than enough to sweeten his thoughts and he had hoped that his first night back would be an equally romantic and memorable occasion. However looking at his obviously exhausted wife he seriously doubted any of his imaginings would come to pass that particular evening.

Glancing round their sitting room Jarvis couldn't help but notice the little homely touches that Flora had added over the months, the pictures that he had collected over his travels had been hung proudly on the sitting room walls alongside a beautiful and complex sampler that his wife had obviously created with her talented fingers. Not to mention the umpteen cushions and new upholstery that covered the two fireside chairs, it didn't take a great deal of brain power to realise what had kept his wife amused in the wee hours of the night and morning when he had been on the far side of the globe.

"You've been busy." Walter whispered rubbing Flora's shoulders softly.

"Hmm." Flora replied distractedly.

"I've got some more pictures to hang, perhaps you can lend me your eye tomorrow?"

"Of course, after you're unpacked of course!" Flora retorted waving at his three trunks that were piled up against the wall. "You're going to struggle to find your nightshirt and dressing gown in all that."

"Oh well I'll manage I'm sure!" Jarvis retorted cheekily pulling his wife into his arms and holding her close. "If you'll keep me nice and warm that is?"

"Oh I'll try." Flora muttered, reaching down and clasping his hand tightly in her own before leading him through the open door to their bedroom.

"Could you..." She trailed off nodding to her dress fastenings, which her smiling husband made quick work off, helping her off with her summer dress and undergarments and on with her nightdress, taking time to marvel at her distended stomach and running his hands over her skin before pulling the light cotton dress down properly.

"How on earth have you been coping without me?" He joked as he helped her into bed tucking her in firmly.

"Oh well there was always a string of volunteers…" Flora sniggered enjoying the momentary shocked look on his face. "But mostly Molly or your mother and its only been the last week or so its been a struggle before that I managed on my own."

"Well I'm here now I can take care of you properly, stop you from overdoing it as you obviously have been doing. What was the point of hiring Mrs Watson if you still insist on doing everything yourself?"

"But resting is boring and I have enough baby clothes for triplets…" Flora suddenly trailed off her eyes tearing up as the memories of that evening came flooding back. "Oh Walter what if…"

"Shush…" Walter whispered moving to sit besides her on the bed and pull his trembling wife into his arms. "Don't even think it, what happened to Rebecca was a terrible thing but that has no bearing on us, on our child." He added gently rubbing his hand across her stomach and smiling when he felt their child move underneath his fingertips. "See even the baby agrees with me!"

"Well I could never win an argument against two Corey's now could I!" Flora retorted wiping away her tears and snuggling into Walter's chest.

"No you couldn't so why don't you close those eyes and get some sleep." Walter added pulling her tighter and rubbing his hands up and down her back and planting tiny kisses along her hairline.

"How can I sleep with you doing that?" Flora giggled trailing her fingers teasingly down his waistcoat and playing with the buttons before naughtily tugging his shirt and vest out of his trousers and running her fingertips up over his bare chest.

"Oh so now you want to play? How typical just when I've told you to rest!" Walter muttered tersely but he couldn't resist the invitation in her eyes and made quick work of his waistcoat before letting his wife enthusiastically assist him with his shirt.

"Oh Walter don't be a spoilsport!" Flora retorted reaching up and kissing him soundly on the lips before suddenly pulling away. "Oh not now baby…Please!"

"It certainly has a Corey sense of timing!" Walter hissed. "What's the matter baby don't you want your parents to be happy?"

"I think he just wants me all to himself!" Flora mumbled. "He's not used to sharing after all!"

"He?" Walter said smugly.

"Oh stop gloating Walter, he's better than it!"

"I believe you, I suppose you'd better try getting some sleep then." He added sadly.

"You have to be joking, with the baby moving around like this…And you wonder why I'm tired all the time, you would be to if you had every night's sleep disrupted like this."

"Is there anything we can do to make him stop?" Jarvis asked exasperated, realising if Flora wasn't getting any sleep then it was doubtful she would let him snooze away.

"Well I find singing to him helps, but I suppose if you were to talk to him it might work just as well."

"Read what?" He asked, bewilderment clear on his handsome face.

"Well I don't know, anything will do….Last months household orders if needs be!" Flora snapped, squirming around until she got comfortable.

Suddenly the Butler jumped off the bed, he had just thing, not only would it sooth his child but it might even keep the missus in the mood long enough to get some much needed relief.

A minute later he returned brandishing an instantly recognisable book, one that caused his wife's eyebrow to suddenly shoot skyward.

"So you didn't loose it!"

"No." Jarvis retorted smugly, settling beside her on the bed and opening to the first page, somehow managing to keep it away from his now intrigued wife he propped himself up on one elbow and began to read his first letter aloud resting his other hand gently on her stomach so he could gage the effect.

"My Dearest Darling Wife…."

Half an hour later the baby had finally stopped kicking and a hopeful Jarvis read to the end of the letter he was on before closing the journal shut. Slowly he edged up the bed until he was lying side by side with his sleepy smiling wife.

"I think it might have worked!" He whispered nuzzling into her hair and eliciting a promising moan of agreement. "Now where were we?" He added trailing kisses down her neck before teasing at the bow of her nightdress and making his way down from her collarbone.

"That feels nice…" Flora murmured sleepily, raising a hand to stroke his hair softly.

"Just give me five minutes!" Jarvis added cheekily as he caressed her now bare arms. "And it'll feel more than nice…"

However the only response he got from his incredibly relaxed wife was a soft whimper followed by a loud yawn as she drifted off to sleep, completely oblivious to her now extremely wound up husband as he balled his fists in frustration.

"Bloody typical!" He hissed under his breath but as he gazed down at the ravishing creature below him he couldn't find it in his heart to stay mad for long, she looked just like an angel when she slept, and besides one more night wouldn't make that much of a difference, after all tomorrow was only a few hours away and Flora had always been partial to a spot of snuggling in the mornings.

While the reunited couple were just beginning to doze off, another pair of adults not too far away, were still up once again needing each other's company as they had over the last 6 months. The younger of the pair had her head buried in his shoulder, muttering things he couldn't understand.

"Grace darling, I can't understand a word you are saying," he whispered soothingly, stroking her hair gently. "Have you found out what happened at George's trial?"

Pulling away from him she shakes her head, "I've not seen one member of the higher staff since we returned, only Mrs Corey briefly."

"Well it doesn't take a genius to work that one out. Jarvis will be busy reuniting with his wife between the sheets, Adams will have nipped upstairs for a similar appointment and Prince Albert will be reunited himself with his true love," suddenly forgetting the reason for her dismayed, Grace looked at him her eyebrow raised, wishing to find out anything about the chef he didn't already know. "his kitchen" Frank adds, noticing the interest on her face.

"Oh," she whispers, finally able to smile. "That may explains those members of staff, but Mrs Watson and Mrs Corey…senior version, have both disappeared too." Frank chuckles slightly.

"I wouldn't worry about it, if anything slightly entertaining had happen we would have heard about it."

She nods, "I just wanted to ask someone what had happened to…George."

"Grace I warned you while we were away not to get your hopes up," Her bottom lip begins to tremble, she splutters slightly as she tries to hold back more tears. "I know it's difficult my dear, but I'm here for you." She nods, feeling a lot calmer and reassured as he pulls her back into his arms. He smirks to himself, as he runs his hands up and down her back. He'd almost succeeded in breaking her down completely. He'd spent a lot of time earlier sneaking around trying to spot any sign that George was there somewhere, he'd seen none, so now all he needed was the hear the words from someone's mouth to confirm his suspicions, then onto operation two.

"Mrs Corey…gave me this earlier," she whispers, pulling the letter from out of her pocket and waving it under his nose.

"That's Cosmo's writing," he mumbles, suddenly beginning to feel the temperature rise, as he imagined all the things he may have managed to convince her of in a letter. "You've not opened it," he sighs relieved, as he noticed the fully tact seal.

"I can't," her voice sounded cracked and strained. "What if…what if I find out tomorrow the trial…didn't go well, but I've just read this letter. I don't want to know what he has say, coz I'm pretty sure it'll either contain a bunch of lies or his supposed 'love' for me…neither of which I wish to hear."

"That is understandably. You should get rid of it straight aw-"

"However!" She cuts across him. "If the trial did go well and I wish to read this letter I want to know it is safe for until I'm ready." She spoke firmly, wiping the tears bravely from her face and sitting up, holding the letter out to him.

"You want me to keep it?"

"If you would be so kind," she smiles at him.

"Grace..." he begins warningly, "you know what i'm like, i'll loose it!"

She smiles once more taking his hand gently and squeezing it. "I know you Frank. I know you'll keep it safe for me. You been so kind to me these past few months, I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to repay. I just need you to do this one last favour for me." He nods encouragingly at her. "Thank you." She whispers, pulling herself up from his lap, before pulling him up too.

She wrapped her arms around him, standing motionless in his embrace for a moment. "I couldn't manage without you during this rough spell." With those final words she leans up, kissing him briefly but firmly on the lips, before making her exit.

Smirking to himself, Frank slumped down into his chair, running his fingers over the writing on the letter. Without a pang of guilt he ripped over the letter. He didn't even read it properly through, he couldn't be bothered, he'd heard it all before. George had used a page and a half explaining his innocence, then had used another page going on and on about how much he loved her.

"What a shame you'll never get to read this Gracie," he murmurs, before flinging the papers on the fire. "May have saved you some despondency, but I'm not going to let that happen…oh no."

After he'd done with her that foolish lass was never going to trust anyone again, he'd make sure of that. Get her close to him then bring her down. Pay her back for all that crap he put her through once upon at a time. Revenge is sweet.

If Adams had thought he was going to get to Lady Rebecca's room without any interruption, then he had been sorely mistaken. He had only just started his ascent of the main staircase, trying desperately not to look like a man desperate to see his sick lover who had just given birth to two illegitimate sons, when he heard the all too familiar throaty bark of His Lordship bellowing at him from the hallway.

"You! Mr…Adams, yes that's it, where's Jarvis with my evening brandy!" The Earl questioned him abruptly, his complexion beetroot as he huffed and paced the foot of the staircase. Adams came to a halt mid-step and sighed a little too loudly, turning on his heel and bowing respectfully.

"I am sure he will be on his way with it soon, My Lord." Adams replied, amazed at his own self control as the Earl puffed out his cheeks and groaned.

"Likely bloody story, don't know what's the matter with the fellow, now he's got himself a wife he thinks he can pay her more attention than me!" He snorted, his moustache bristling like an irate hedgehog. "I'm going to have to have stern words with him at this rate, it's no good having a butler and housekeeper who are married if they forget their priorities, I'm too good to the likes of you people!"

"Sir." Adams grumbled, but as he turned to move at an even quicker pace up the stairs the Earl coughed in annoyance, so much so that the under-butler had no choice but to turn to him again and wait for instruction. Sometimes he felt just like Monty the dog waiting for a bone to fetch, for no other purpose than to amuse toffy nosed rich sods like Algernon Sturges Bourne.

"I think the doctor might have been informing him of the state of Lady Rebecca's health, sir, and the situation with her newborns…." Adams began, trailing off as he felt the sadness gripping his chest. He feared that if he said much more he would be unable to stop himself from making the Earl not inconsiderably suspicious. His Lordship, however, did not seem particularly bothered, if at all, about the woman he not so long ago professed his undying love for, nor supposedly the late Lord Hugo's children and heirs.

"Would you like me to fetch your brandy now, sir? Ah, Mr Forest." Adams' clenched jaw eased and he managed to force a small smile at such good timing as Will tried to sneak past, relieved from his duties for the night by Fred. Will ground to a halt and frowned; even throughout the last 6 months in India some things hadn't changed. "Mr Forest, could you fetch His Lordship his evening brandy?"

Relieved that the brandy situation had been resolved successfully and he hadn't had to waste his time trying in vain to keep the Lord of the manor happy when all he wanted to do was sit at Rebecca's bedside, Adams finally reached Rebecca's bedroom and for a moment he wasn't sure what he should do. The door was firmly closed, so he pressed his ear up against the door in the hopes of hearing the voice of his sister and Lizzie, but he couldn't hear a word so he built up his resolve and turned the handle.

He slid inside, concentrating on shutting the door as quietly as possible before turning his attention to the familiar sight of Rebecca's bed. He was used to seeing her lying there before him, welcoming him with open arms – and legs – while often wearing as little as possible, but more recently with her head in a chamber pot, and he was used to seeing her sleep, watching her steady breathing and sometimes a smile on her face which he hoped was there because she was dreaming of them together. Even now, she appeared as peaceful as if she were simply dozing, waiting for him to come to her and hold her in her sleep, cuddle her and keep her safe and away from the awful social stigma attached to their secret relationship.

Adams moved over quietly to her bed, his eyes fixed to her pale face surrounded by her beautiful red locks, and he could tell that although she was silent now she had been through an awful lot the past few hours as red circles around her closed eyes told him that she had obviously been crying quite hard throughout her ordeal. He cursed himself for not being there, he had promised her he would be near but instead he was drinking whiskey with Jarvis and unable to help her in any way, nor save the child they had lost. He carefully grasped her warm fingers, raising them to his lips and kissing them gently, but his eyes remained dry as he simply stood and stared down at her, the most beautiful creature in the world. Rebecca's bump was still there, it had reduced slightly but it looked as if she were still pregnant, so he hoped to God that wasn't the case for if there were more of them in there he doubted she would see out the next 24 hours!

With a small smile of pride, he bent down and kissed her motionless lips, but then suddenly he heard a small cry from the corner of the room and his head shot round in an instant. He could see a crib and immediately his heart leapt, he thought Jarvis had said the surviving child was in Lord Harry's old room, but he had been wrong as there was certainly a baby inside it.

Tentatively he placed Rebecca's arm down by her side and moved cautiously towards the crib, its contents eliciting another small but healthy cry, and as he peered over the hood he stopped dead and his eyes widened in wonder. The baby, his baby, was just as Jarvis had described, he had had an image in his head from the moment he told him but nothing had prepared him for the real thing. The child was a tiny, pink bundle wrapped in a soft crocheted blanket, with hair as equally red as his mother's, and his tiny fingers were peaking over the top of the blanket. Adams smiled broadly, this time unable to prevent the tears of joy and intrepidation from springing to his eyes, so with shaking arms he reached down into the crib and lifted the almost weightless baby from inside it and cradled it close to his chest. He had never held a baby before, he had no idea how to, but somehow he felt he was doing something right as the child stopped crying and sighed, as if he knew he was instantly loved.

"Hello there, little one." Adams whispered softly, placing his first kiss on the baby's tiny forehead as he slept in his arms. He rocked his son gently and moved over to the window to gaze out at the still summer evening. "Well, laddie, I suppose I should introduce myself, I'm your daddy, although I bet I'm a bit of a disappointment in comparison to your mother." Adams beamed, staring back down at the baby. Even the stunning orange sunset couldn't hold his attention, he had far more beautiful things to look at. "You're as every bit as perfect as I imagined, you know. I just hope your mother wakes up to see you, she will be so proud. You will have to be so brave and look after her if I can't be around, but remember I will always love you, no matter what happens, no matter what your grandfather or your Aunt Francesca may say and do. I am so sorry you will never know your brother, I would like to have called him Archie….no, we _will_ call him Archie. Now as for your name my son….."

"She wants to call him Hugo." Lizzie said in a hushed whisper from by the door, a whisper of a smile across her lips. Adams jumped slightly; he had been so engrossed in talking to Hugo that he hadn't heard his daughter quietly open the door and watch him with interest.

"Elizabeth!" Adams exclaimed, smiling as he lay eyes on his daughter for the first time in over six months. He felt more joy than he would have imagined at seeing her, and she returned the smile and walked up to him, clutching a neatly folded cambric slip which she placed next to the crib. "Hugo, eh? Well I suppose it was to be expected - Hugo, say hello to your sister! How are you anyway? Did you get the letter I sent?"

"Yes I did, it sounds like you had quite a bit of fun while you were away." Lizzie laughed, peering over her father's shoulder at her half brother. "He's so bonny, and so small, those little hands and feet…..have you seen Archie yet?" She asked him, her expression turning grave. Adams' smile fell away and his brow furrowed, and he glanced over at Rebecca and shook his head sorrowfully.

"No, I haven't, not yet. Where is he?"

"He's in the nursery….Dr Evans thought it would be a good idea that Hugo be in here with Lady Rebecca, it may help wake her up if she hears him cry and gurgle." Lizzie whispered, walking over to the bed and straightening the covers out. "He said it wouldn't do her any good for a dead baby to be around, Lord Farquarson has even suggested he be buried very soon, even before Her Ladyship wakes up if necessary."

"Never!" Adams growled, tucking Hugo's delicate hands back inside his blanket. "I won't allow it, she has to see him before that, she would never forgive her father, or me, or herself if she didn't get to see what he looks like, let alone miss the child's funeral!"

Lizzie looked at him pitifully with soft brown eyes, cocking her head to one side and reaching out to lay an affectionate hand on Adams' arm, smiling wistfully. "He doesn't look the same as Hugo, he has brown hair and certainly doesn't have your nose. Mrs Corey said he looks far more like me than Hugo does…" Lizzie gulped, wondering if she had said too much and upset him, but instead Adams nodded slowly and looked back down at Hugo, humming a lullaby.

"I'll come and see him, of course. Just….can you give me just a couple more minutes?" He asked, sniffing and turning away so she couldn't see his tears.

"Yes, but Lord Farquarson could come back at any minute." Lizzie protested. "Mrs Watson is keeping watch outside, you'd better hurry up – I can't tell you what to do, father, but…."

"Yes, I realise thank you." Adams snapped a little too harshly, Lizzie obviously taken aback as she blinked in surprise. He sighed in regret, placing his hand behind her head and pulling it forward so he could kiss her forehead. "I'm sorry, it's been a long day, I don't think my body knows what time it is and I just didn't expect Rebecca to give birth so soon. Tell Mrs Watson I'll be out in a moment."

Lizzie nodded, picking up an empty water jug on her way towards the door.

"Oh and Elizabeth," Adams said softly. "It really is lovely to see you. I've missed you a lot, there's so much for me to make up to you." A smile flashed across her tired face and she left quietly, leaving Adams still rocking Hugo who was now sleeping soundly, his small breaths the only sound in the room.

"Aye, you'll be a strapping young man one day." Adams muttered, brushing his nose against the baby's cheek. "I can tell you'll have all the lassies after you, and if Jarvis has a daughter then maybe one day we'll have to introduce the both of you, you may hit it off. Alright, I'm probably jumping ahead of myself, let you learn to feed and clothe yourself first before setting you up with a girl! Although something tells me there will be certain expectations of you, certain standards which won't include me or the likes of any daughter of Jarvis'." Adams lowered Hugo back into his crib, gently pulling the blanket around him and carefully stroking his soft hair. "I'll be back soon, little one, don't worry. Probably tomorrow now though, so keep your mummy company and Lizzie and Aunty Molly will feed and change you until she wakes up."

He felt a pang of worry churn in the pit of his stomach at his final words, and if feeling guilty for paying their son rather than Rebecca attention he walked over to her and kissed her again. "I won't let them bury Archie before you get to say goodbye, I promise I won't." He breathed, running his thumb across her knuckles as if to reassure her. If only she would wake up, she could argue with her father, what could _he_ do in his position? He found it so frustrating to have no control and he just didn't know what to do. Maybe Jarvis could stall it somehow? For now, it was time to make the visit he had been dreading most. He knew he had to do it, he _wanted_ to do it, but it didn't make it any easier.

Early the next morning Walter Corey rolled over in bed, his hands reaching out and automatically groping around beside him for his wife, just as he had so many mornings before; even during their long trip where the most he had ever uncovered had been an empty bottle of brandy or once to his disgust a pair of Andrew Adams socks, a very much worn and smelly pair. However despite the correct location his search once more was fruitless. Immediately alerted to this fact Walter risked opening one eye a crack, squinting even in the dull morning light as he discovered the fact his loving wife was indeed as suspected absent from their marital bed.

Sitting up he huffed in annoyance, where the hell could she be now of all times? Looking round for his dressing gown he suddenly remembered that it alongside all of his other clothes, well apart from the suit that he had so recklessly abandoned onto the floor last night, were still neatly packed in his trunks. Sighing loudly he gathered the bed sheet around his middle and staggered out into their sitting room.

"Flora?" He called out hopefully as he stuck his head round the door. "My love?" But instead of the cheerful good morning he had hoped for he was met by stony silence. "That's just bloody typical!" He huffed throwing himself down in one of the fireside and chairs and venting his frustration by beating one of Flora's delicately embroidered cushions until he felt slightly better.

"She could have bothered to wake me first…" He muttered pushing himself out of the chair and over to the trunks which he began to slowly unpack, noting the creases in his trousers which would have to be pressed before he could wear them that morning. However despite his pressing need for clothing that wasn't the prominent reason for unpacking at such an hour, as the thought had occurred to him that perhaps the reason for his wife's frostiness had less to do with a new found dislike of his company and more to do with some febrile female frustration probably because as yet he hadn't showered her with gifts…

"Well I'll show her!" He exclaimed to himself, smiling as sorted through the multitude of items he had impulsively purchased for her during the trip.

Yards of the finest Spanish lace, Indian silk not to mention the new mink stole that had cost him a pretty penny in London. Beneath the clothing though were the other little trinkets the silver rattle and assorted wooden toys for the little one. But most importantly that little felt box he had been paranoid would suddenly disappear and along with it the delicate pair of sapphire earrings he had brought on a whim in that auction in Calcutta, when he was meant to bidding on that ugly bejewelled miniature elephant for his lordship.

"I'll show that filly just who does she thinks she's playing with!" He scoffed haphazardly throwing aside that damn book he had searched all over India for.

Why couldn't Lady Rebecca have asked Andrew to do it instead of him, and why the damn secrecy? But then he had never felt it necessary to understand all of his superior's orders, but he did think it a might bit cheeky that an aristocrat who wasn't even his employer should have the nerve to give him instructions. Why he hadn't just said no straight away, but deep down he knew why, it was difficult enough saying no to any aristocrat but to say so to one who processed such dazzling blue eyes and such a sweet temperament and of course was his wife's closest friend was nigh on impossible.

"What's so special about the Karma Sutra anyway?" He muttered under his breath, as he remembered the many long futile afternoons spent in search of the said book, remembering the downright rudeness of the of the many bookshop owners when he had made the most polite enquires about purchasing a copy. You wouldn't have people act that way in England, those foreigners were just downright rude, you'd think they didn't want his money the way they acted as though he had the plague or something. Then just as he was about to give up the search as a futile one that local guide fellow they had hired to take them from Calcutta to Madras came up trumps and managed to find him a copy and it was so neatly wrapped and probably in Punjab or whatever dialect that region spoke that there seemed little point finding out what it was about; although the guide did mumble something about the etching on page seventy eight was well worth a closer look…

However before his curiosity could get the better of him the door to their rooms opened and in tiptoed the absentee Mrs Corey totally oblivious to her husband standing in the corner of the sitting room as she tried to slip back into the bedroom.

"And just where do you think you've been?" Walter demanded having snuck up behind her, causing to practically jump out of her skin when she heard him bellow.

"Walter you're awake!" She exclaimed a hand clutched over her pounding heart as she thought it might leap out of her ribcage in terror.

"That much is evident but you still haven't answered my question!"

"I…"

"This is my first morning back and instead of lying by my side providing wifely comfort you're off putting yourself and the baby at risk by doing too much…" Jarvis carried on as if she hadn't spoken. "Without a decent reason I might add and without even waking me to tell me where you were going!"

"I went to see the baby!" Flora snapped.

"Oh…"

"Yes and before you start Walter Corey I was asked to go, not that you'd notice as usual you could sleep through a train crash, Lizzy came and got me an hour ago as the baby wasn't settling or taking any milk and as Lady Rebecca still hasn't recovered the doctor suggested I might be able to help."

"How could you help?" He replied genuinely confused.

"Oh use your brain Walter do you see any other heavily pregnant women around here?" Flora snapped.

"But how…." He began only to be cut off by his hormonally charged wife.

"It doesn't matter and besides it is nothing to do with you!"

"Nothing to do…"

"I said I don't want to talk about it and I don't intend to!" Flora retorted before he could even finish a whole sentence.

"Well fine then I suppose if your activities are none of your own husbands business then I had better find somebody else to give the presents I brought back from my trip then shouldn't I?" Walter added smugly, watching as his wife's expression quickly turned from tired and waspish to alert and curious.

"Presents?" She muttered surprised.

"Well what did you expect? That I'd go all that way and not buy you a few things?" He added teasingly delighted as her face lit up in anticipation. "But you're not getting them unless you get back into bed this instant and promise me you'll take another few hours rest!"

"If you promise to keep me company…" Flora added coyly holding out her hand, which Walter gladly accepted as she drew him over to the bed.

"That sounds like a marvellous idea!" Walter replied huskily leaning down to kiss her but Flora reached up and placed a restraining finger across his lips.

"Presents first!" She giggled drawing out of his arms and reclining on the bed. "And give me back my bedclothes!" She added reaching out and catching the end of the sheet tucked about his waist, which she tugged sharply whilst Walter tried desperately to hold on to the other end.

"Flora…"

"What?" She purred softly. "There's only the two of us."

"You are a hard woman to please Flora Corey!" Walter retorted letting go of the bed clothes reluctantly before gamefully disappeared back into the sitting room and returning a moment later his dressing gown firmly wrapped around him and several oddly shaped packages in his arms

"I notice you didn't indulge in an all over tan then!" Flora giggled patting the space beside her on the bed.

"Why you cheeky little…." Jarvis began but he was cut off by his wife kissing him quickly before turning her attention to the presents.

"What'd I get?" She demanded like a ten year old at Christmas.

"Hold on my little Mercantilist one thing a time." He retorted handing her the first present and watching with delight as she gushed over the materials he has brought home exclaiming how that ivory silk would be perfect for a christening gown and the lace would be perfect with that dress he had bought her for Christmas last.

"Oh Walter they're such lovely thoughtful presents and the toys for the baby are just the sweetest!" Flora whispered resting her head on her husband's chest and pulling him as close as she could manage for a tight hug. "Thank you my darling!"

"You still have one left you know!" Walter added mysteriously.

"What more?" Flora started surprised. "You shouldn't have spent so much…."

However she never finished that sentence as at that moment the Butler reached into the pocket of his dressing gown and retrieved the little felt box.

"What's that?"

"Open it and see!" Walter retorted smugly, studying her face closely as she reached out and flipped the lid open before gasping in surprise. "So you hate them then?"

"No oh Walter they're lovely really beautiful but how could you…"

"Why don't you let me worry about that? Let's just say although you may be able to beat me at chess I doubt that you would be able to beat me at poker and its amazing how bored people become on those ships and trains…"

"Walter Corey have you been gambling?" Flora exclaimed in horror.

"A little and before you start it was only ever for under a pound…I just can't help winning more than I loose now can I?" He added defensively.

"Well I suppose…" Flora relented as she stroked the delicate sapphires in the box. "Just promise me something!"

"Anything!"

"That I won't wake up one morning and find you've turned into Andrew Adams!"

Laughing suddenly at her bizarre and to his mind ridiculous suggestion Jarvis nodded firmly. "I think my love despite having spent far to much time in the aforementioned gentleman's company I can safely promise you never to turn into another Andrew Adams….Now as that's the presents over and done with…Where were we? Ahh yes time for you to show your appreciation…" He trailed off suggestively running his fingers down the side of her face before pulling her close for a passionate kiss his hands drifting to the fastenings of her dress.

However just as things were getting interesting, from Jarvis's perspective that is as his wife had virtually ripped the dressing gown from his back and thrown it dramatically across the room whilst he fumbled with her buttons, they suddenly went from blissful rapture to acute horror and embarrassment.

"Flora my dear your usual!" A sharp and wholly recognisable voice rang out as the owner pushed the door to the couple's rooms open and headed towards the bedroom causing the housekeeper to grasp the bed sheets closely to her in an effort to preserve her modesty, a fact that did not aid the butler in preserving his.

Panicking, "Mother", was all Jarvis could squeak before attempting to dash across the room to retrieve his abandoned dressing gown missing it by a few inches as he tripped spectacularly over his own feet, bashing his head against the smooth wood of the wardrobe just as the bedroom door began to open. Without further thought Jarvis seized the wardrobe door and flung himself inside shaking in horror at the very prospect of his mother catching him in the all together.

"Emily." He heard Flora's somewhat strained voice ring out. "I wasn't expecting you."

"But you always have tea in bed at this time!" Emily rebuked and he heard the clink as a tea tray was set down on the bedside table. "See and I even brought an extra cup for Walter just in case he was here!"

"But he isn't as you can see!" Flora retorted but even to Jarvis's ears her voice sounded forced and panicking. "And well now he is back I think it best you don't keep bringing my breakfast…"

"But the Dr said…" Emily began.

"Yes but Walter is looking after me now and…"

Flora began but she was cut off by the sound of his mother laughing hysterically, which caused his temper to bristle, what was so funny about him looking after his own wife.

"Oh I am sorry Flora but the thought of my Walter being capable of looking after anyone, even himself properly, let alone his pregnant wife, well that's ridiculous I mean for example just look at this place, he's not even been home five minutes and look all this tissue paper on the floor not to mention his dirty clothes… Oh and look he's even forgotten to put away that lovely dressing gown of his…" She trailed off and for a moment Jarvis literally held his breath in horror she couldn't, she wouldn't, would she?

"Well fortunately that is something I can remedy…" Emily added finally ignoring Flora's strangled cry of 'don't' before the door to the wardrobe suddenly opened and she was confronted with a sight no mother should see, her only child standing as naked as the day he was born with only one of his wife's bonnets to cover his modesty.

"Hello mother…" Jarvis muttered hopefully. "You're looking well…." He trailed off unable to think of anything else he could say to ease the tense atmosphere as his stunned mother appeared speechless.

"Yes well….I suppose I can say the same." Emily added swallowing nervously as she then wordlessly handed him the dressing gown before the butler once more shut the wardrobe door.

"I'll be off then!" She added and ashen headed for the door. "I think perhaps you were right for once Flora my dear, from now on Walter can bring up your tea."

A moment later his modesty now covered Walter stuck his head out of the wardrobe. "Has she gone?"

Nodding in affirmation Flora slid off their bed and quickly refastened her dress before lifting the tea tray and heading into the sitting room.

"Wait darling…" Walter called out catching her before she could leave and moulding himself against her back he slid his hands around her waist as far as they could go before nibbling at her earlobe. "Weren't we in the middle of something My Dearest?"

"If you honestly think I am still in the mood after THAT DEBACLE, then you must have hit your head harder than I thought!" Flora hissed trying to wiggle herself free.

"Give me five minutes and I can change your mind." He added mischievously kissing down her neck.

"I doubt it!" Flora retorted. "If it's a choice between you and breakfast then I hate to break it to you my love but to this pregnant woman breakfast wins hands down!" And with that she broke free from his grasp and strode into the sitting room leaving a stunned and frankly exasperated Walter Corey behind her.

As the first footman strode down the first floor corridor, receiving a few choice looks as he nodded with gusto to Mr Finch's men and winked overtly at Mrs Corey's ladies maids as he went. Just as he was getting into full stride, he was abruptly stopped in his tracks at the rather faint sound of a thoroughly familiar and uplifting voice.

Taking two paces back, he caught sight of the back of Grace, as the washroom door was left ajar. From what he could make out, she was rubbing someone's shoulders, patting their back as they stood to the side, leaning both hands on the large sink, but somehow he suspected they weren't doing any laundry. He carefully pushed the door a little more open, just so he could see who it was. However, on looking upon the second person, he was crest fallen to discover that it was Lizzie.

She was now leaning in her left arm, her hand scrunching her hair, her other grasping the spare piece of linen she was currently using as a makeshift handkerchief. Straining to hear, he managed to make out the words 'awful', 'doctor' and 'Lady Rebecca.'

He glanced at Grace for a second (as she had swung round), she wasn't looking much better, obviously the news of what had happened upstairs was having a rather personal affect on her too. It was as he stared into space contemplating this that he suffered a most rude awakening, just as he was respectfully attempting to pull the door to a close.

'William Forrest!' Grace scorned, looking straight at him.

'Will!' he heard Lizzie gushed, turning away from the door as she immediately tried to gather herself.

'Yes?' he said cautiously, fearing he'd have to face Grace's wrath once more (honestly, on times he admired George's bravery, not often though), as he sheepishly peered back around the door.

'Eavesdropping at doors again are we?' she taunted.

'Well, I was just pass-'

'Oh Grace!' Lizzie cried, giving her friend a knowing look, still keeping her back to him.

'Alright, alright.' She conceded 'Just knock next time will you?'

'Its alright…' Lizzie continued quietly.

'Will do.' Will answered graciously, though with a hint of sarcasm.

'Well see that you do!' she scolded as she bustled up to him carrying a washing basket, almost knocking him down as she bid to get passed him, rolling her eyes at Lizzie (who momentarily glanced over her shoulder), shooting her a 'we'll talk later' look as she disappeared out the door, leaving the pair alone.

As he looked back at her, she quickly slid her hands, still clutching the now sodden scrap of material, into her pinafore pockets.

Will cautiously approached her, she still refused to show her face, leading him to gently push her so she'd turn round. The colour had now returned to her cheeks, indeed, they were looking quite rosy.

'Just how long were you standing there?' she enquired.

'Oh not long, don't worry, I wasn't prying-'

'I, I know' she assured him, briefly glancing up at him before crossing to the other side of the room (not that this did a lot of good, as it was particularly tiny).

However, it did allow him a better view of her, one which he allowed himself to fully take in, before commenting upon it. 'I see Scotland it is a lot more agreeable in summer than in than in winter, your looking well Liz.'

Nothing was said at this, the only reply he received was a rather bemused expression, one which he now attempted to rectify, he had always seemed possess the ability to make her laugh, so he resolved to see if he still had it. 'Whats up Liz, am I not the handsome rogue your remember, or have I grown yet more dashing?' he quipped, placing his hands on his hip, giving an exaggerated up-nod in order to flick his hair, flashing her a cheesy grin think Blackadder's Lord Flasheart!

Lizzie didn't know whether to laugh or cry, frankly at the moment she was doing her utmost not to cringe with embarrassment, straining a sweet smile before answering, with a nervous nod 'I suppose'

'You suppose?' he retorted 'So you find me hideous then?' he continued in a lighthearted tone.

'Indeed, I always did, you know' she teased, deciding to come someway out of her shell.

For a second Will had to check she was joking, but it was her quick wit (amongst her other talents) he had remembered frequently on his journey and indeed, throughout his time in India, despite its many attractions. When he had made sure and once again looked upon her face, across which a genuine smile had now spread, he followed suit, the pair erupting into laughter, as he suddenly and (if Lizzie was honest) rather unexpectedly drew her into a hug.

At first his gesture was reciprocated, as she nestled her head against his shoulder, at which he leant down to rest his chin on the crown of her head, breathing in deeply to draw the heathery scent of her hair to his nostrils. However, they remained in each others arms but a moment before the maid coughed fretfully, proceeding to pull away from the footman, who seemed (initially) somewhat reluctant to release her.

As she retreated, Will tried to engage her vacant stare, a pleasure she chose to denied him, keeping her head down, studying the slate floor. He could tell she wasn't exactly at ease, so thought better of his immediate reaction, which was to gently lift her head, to see if her eyes would tell him what her lips would presently not. Consequently, there was an, slightly awkward, silent pause.

When they were a more comfortable distance apart, Lizzie saw fit to glance up at him. 'Well I see your all in one piece at least, what with your party of the last six months consisting of Mr. Jarvis, Frank and … (with a little hesitation, but she had to admit) my father'

'Ah well, just about in one piece, felt as though I were in several yesterday, after bloody Jarvis decided to swan off and leave me handle the unloading – dya know he alone had six trunks, he only went out with four, the other two were only crammed with presents! …' he exclaimed

Lizzie held her breath as he reached the end of his sentence, she was in no doubt as to whom the presents were for, and was sure neither was Will, but as she did not detect any obvious change in his manner of speech (just the usual sense of disdain he had for carrying out orders), she allowed herself some hope that her friend had at last resolved his feelings for the housekeeper, though perhaps a little too late.

Her chain of thought was interrupted as Will continued '… And as for the other two, well, we didn't really see much of Frankie boy to be honest, he was - as you'd expect - kept away as much as possible, but when any of us did catch sight of him, he appeared - and I say appeared, coz we've all seen his little performances before - pretty … mellow.'

'Are you sure it was Frank Keneally, mellow?' Lizzie repeated disbelievingly.

'I know, there's something not quite right there.' Will pondered.

'There never is where he's concerned.' She concluded, rolling her eyes.

'Tell me about it, I can't understand why he's still here, well, no one can.'

'Well, no doubt Mr. Adams was cracking the whip. And not just with Frank.' She added inquisitively.

'Your dad? I didn't have much of a problem with him.' He shrugged.

Lizzie was so shocked at Will's most unlikely comment; she stared at him quite confounded, as if he'd somehow instantaneously grown another head. She just had to take a double take on that one 'You didn't?'

'Nah, I mean there were a few occasions…' he reminisced, but wasn't about to go into detail as he was trying to make a good impression. 'Yeah, I, I mean he's not that bad really, really quite funny when he has his moments, like this one evening, we'd had a few and …' he trailed off as he registered her rather sceptical expression.

'…he got stone drunk and made a complete prat of himself?' she offered

'No no!' Will wished he'd never started trying to talk her father up, and now he had to somehow convince her that her old man had mended his ways – this, even he didn't have the gift of the gab to pull off, so simply admitted defeat. 'You know he was most anxious as to what was happening in Scotland, with Lady … and of course you.'

'I should think so.' She scorned, rather more bluntly than she had intended.

His previous statement was intended to get her off the subject of his travels and onto her trip north of the border, as he knew full well what went on in India and was infinitely more interested in what she had gotten up to in his absence. Evidently, the direct approach was required.

'Anyway, that's enough about us lads, so just how did you ladies get on without us, how was Bonnie Scotland?'

Not knowing quite what to say, she once again looked away from him, simply admitting somewhat absent-mindedly 'Yeah, it was good to get home, managed to see a few old friends, you know', as she nervously twiddled her hands which were clasped in front of her.

He sincerely agreed with her there, but was still secretly exasperated at the lack of forthcoming information, so tried again 'Not very eventful upon the Highlands then I take it.'

At this her head shot up, betraying her tearful expression, one that instantly roused concern in Will, who tentatively reached out to claim her trembling hands. That was his aim, however just as he could feel the soft downy hair on the back of her hands, she snatched them away, rejoining them behind her back as she leant back against the wall, looking down at her shoulder as she closed her eyes, as the tears began to fall.

'Liz? Liz, are you quite alright?' Will stammered, now deeply worried, not advancing any further forward, in an effort to allow her room to breathe, something inexplicable was telling him that she wouldn't have wanted him to.

After liking her dry lips and dragging her bottom teeth over her top lip, she raised her right hand to her forehead, brushing the stray strands of hair aside (leaving her left arm supporting her resting on the wall) 'I'm, I'm fine Will, honestly, I'm just so tired … so very tired, but I can't … its just what with all that's happened' she gasped, looking up into Will's eyes '… so quickly … one minute he was … in my arms … the next … he didn't even open his eyes.'

'Hey…' he whispered, going against his better judgement and wrapping his arms around her waist. As he drew her away from the wall, she once again hid both hands behind her back, a move which primarily alarmed Will, who half expected her to throw his hands away. To his most pleasant surprise, she simply proceeded to plunge her hand into her right apron pocket, presumably to grasp the handkerchief, yet none emerged.

He was assured that his close presence was not too forward of him, as she flung her arms round his neck, burying her head in his shoulder. 'There's nothing you could have done you know, nothing anyone could have done' he said softly, trying to soothe her, gently running his hands from round her waist up into her hair before coming to halt between her shoulder blades, each laying their head on the other's shoulder, as they moved closer, drawing strength from their mutual embrace.

'We all try to make our own way, as best we can in the world, but inevitably, in some cases, our path is chosen for us, whatever it maybe' he continued.

'Yes' Lizzie agreed sorrowfully, gulping back yet more tears that threatened. However, his words had meant more to her than he knew, they brought her back from this safe haven into reality, as she loosened her grip to face him.

'Or at least that's the philosophy Reverend Postlebury tries to convince us of every Sunday.'

'Well berate me if I'm wrong, but I didn't think it was from the gospel according to St.Forrest!'

'Well I'm …' he started, but when he saw her eyes brighten and lips curl up at the corners, despite her persistent tears, he decided to let that one slide, anything to see her looking a little more composed.

With her eyes flickering between his, Lizzie swiftly wiped away the stray tears from her cheeks before grasping his hands intently. 'You're my dearest friend Will …' she confessed, adding a 'thank you' as she reached up to place a kiss on his cheek, lingering for a few seconds longer to feel the warmth of his skin against hers.

There she left him, feeling too drained and too troubled for words, she slipped away. On turning from him she had once again slipped her hand into her pocket, though this time she did retrieve something, that which she had deposited there moments before. As she wearily wandered down the corridor towards the second floor stairs, she slid the small band of fine metal back onto the third finger of her left hand, where it had rested for the past month or so, quite happily, at least she'd thought.


	2. Episode 2

Adams had hardly been concentrating on the silver he was slowly polishing when Dr Evans rushed past him towards the drawing room, his head hanging as he rubbed his sweating brow. The under-butler saw his own hands visibly shake, the tray in his grasp rattling so hard all the silverware balanced precariously on it clattered together noisily, but he finally managed to regain his composure by taking a deep breath and telling himself it surely wasn't as bad as the doctor's concerned expression made out. Tentatively, he hurried after Dr Evans and checking not a soul was in sight pressed his ear up against the door in the hopes of catching a few words on his beloved's condition.

It was difficult at first to make out exactly what was being said behind the door, the doctor was talking in such a low voice, but a distinctive cough told him that he must be talking to Lord Farquarson. The tray sat unsteadily in Adams' grasp, his heart thumping in his ears so hard and fast it made it even more difficult to hear what was being said…..suddenly Adams heard a rustle behind him and he swung round, nearly knocking the entire contents off the tray, but any concerns he may have had for the Earl's finest Paul de Lamerie, amongst other antique silverware, dissipated in a second when he saw his daughter. The tears were streaming down her cheeks in silent distress and she was hardly able to catch her breath from her sobbing, let alone speak. Adams' could do nothing but stand and stare at her in disbelief, the blood draining from his face as he watched her shake her head slowly but leaving no room for doubt as to what she was telling him. He didn't even notice when the tray finally gave way, tumbling out of his hands and onto the carpet with a loud, distinctive clatter which echoed around the hallway. Lizzie's nerves were so shredded she jumped in shock but Adams didn't even flinch as a teapot rolled away and crashed into a table leg.

"F…father…" Lizzie attempted, stepping closer to him, but as she did so the drawing room door was flung open and the doctor stared at Adams in fury.

"What the hell d'you think you're doing, Mr Adams!" He hissed through gritted teeth, glancing quickly over his shoulder. "Lord Farquarson's daughter has just died and you're causing further panic!"

But Adams hadn't heard a word of it, he was staring just beyond the doctor to Lord Farquarson who was perched on the end of the Earl's favourite chair and holding his head in his hands. It wasn't obvious if he was crying or not, he was simply sitting with his face hidden, rocking ever so slightly.

Adams didn't register that the Earl had appeared from apparently nowhere and had begun yelling at him for being a careless, large-handed fool who was about to have his wages docked if he didn't clear up the mess at once, so on seeing her father's blank expression Lizzie hurriedly collected up the scattered silverware thinking he was about to go through the worst time of his life without having his wages docked on top of it.

Adams' ears were ringing and his forehead was beaded with sweat; he thought he was about to vomit but he hardly cared whether he did or not. It wasn't as if he wasn't thinking straight, he was hardly thinking at all. He looked at the doctor, who was reaching out to him with a puzzled expression and asking him if he was feeling alright, then glanced at the raging look of annoyance on the Earl's scarlet face. The next thing he knew he was running, running so fast he almost tripped over his own feet, his breathing so laboured his chest tightened in alarm. He took the main staircase two stairs at a time, his frame preventing him from being as agile as he might have been, but he reached the top at such speed he couldn't have stopped himself from bumping square into Jarvis even if he had cared a jot. Adams shoved his superior against the wall without even thinking, without any malicious intent but to simply get him out of the way as quickly as possible. Jarvis crashed back into one of a matching pair of Chippendale side tables, yelling out in uncontained anger, but Adams kept on running without even a backwards glance.

He /had/ to get to her, the doctor was wrong, he had to be! He was sure he could wake her up, she would never leave him and their son, she was a fighter and they were in love and she now had everything to live for. It felt like her room was miles away, although he was speeding along he didn't seem to be getting closer to her quick enough, and his legs were shouting at him to stop before they gave way in exhaustion.

Finally Adams reached her room; any scurry of activity there may have been only minutes before had gone and he gasped in horror at the awful sight. He saw Flora sobbing as she gathered up bloody towels from the bedroom floor but she didn't even glance up at him, just continued to cry as she kept herself busy. He could feel the vomit beginning to rise from his stomach as he stared at the bed, his sweet, darling Rebecca lying with little dignity under blood-soaked blankets. He could hear the sound of his son wailing from the nursery; he seemed to know what was happening, that his mother was gone, but Adams' first thoughts were for himself and his own crippling grief as he stepped towards the bed in abject horror.

He reached out to touch her pale, lifeless face, her head lolled to one side and her striking hair drenched in her cooling sweat, but as his fingers traced down over her nose and her parted lips he shook his head.

"No." Adams muttered, his expression hardening as he scooped her up and shook her limp shoulders. "No! Rebecca, come on, wake up – it's me, it's Andrew! Please Rebecca don't do this, I need you; no we need you! Oh please!" He became frantic, shaking her more violently as the tears finally released themselves from his desperate eyes and began streaming down his cheeks.

"Father she's gone!" Lizzie blubbed as he reached Adams' side, desperately trying to pull him away from further damaging her mistress's already broken body. Adams continued to ignore her, pleading with Rebecca to wake up, as if she were purposely ignoring him just to punish him.

"I wasn't there for her, I should have been!" Adams cried amidst feelings of guilt and regret, but he was talking to himself, shouting at himself and not his helpless daughter.

"Dr Evans couldn't stop the bleeding, there was nothing you could have done!" Lizzie pleaded, her round face tear-stained and her large hazel eyes bloodshot. "Father…."

"I should have been there to hold her hand, tell her how much I loved her, there was so much left to say between us!" Adams clutched her tightly to his chest, resting his head on hers and rocking her as the all-consuming pain of her loss hit him like a bolt of lightening straight through his heart. "Why didn't you fetch me! Why didn't anyone bloody fetch me!"

He tore his eyes away from Rebecca for the first time to see Lord Farquarson and the Earl standing in the doorway, Farquarson looking far more angry than upset as he glared at the damn servant who was pawing at his dead daughter.

"What the hell d'you think you're doing, man!" The Earl suddenly boomed, and this time Adams heard him loud and clear. "Jarvis, get in here will you and sort out this silly Scotch idiot will you! He's no damn right to be in here! Jarvis!"

"We were in love!" Adams yelled, his face contorted in fury and sadness as he continued to hold Rebecca's motionless frame close to him. "And Lord Hugo is my son, MINE!"

"Yours!" Lord Farquarson exclaimed in disbelief, marching into the room. His eyes were popping wildly as they darted from Adams to the bloodied bed, but as his hand shot up to his mouth to prevent anything from pouring out of it his expression turned more confused than anything. "Don't be bloody ridiculous, there's not a chance – he is the new Laird, not some bastard child of a…..a nobody! I'm going to take Lord Hugo to Africa, away from your kind and your poisonous insinuations!"

"Stop this nonsense at once!" The Earl barked, glancing round for the butler. Suddenly Lady Francesca was there, and Adams stared in confusion as she wasn't visiting, at least he didn't remember her arrival – she was laughing; an uncontrollable, sickening screechy laugh which pierced Adams' brain. She was pointing at him with a chubby finger, the manic look in her eyes shaking him to the core but he was frozen to the spot, unable to move a muscle. Rebecca remained lifeless in his arms, Lord Farquarson sneering about how pathetic he was and how he would be dismissed without character for spreading such heinous lies about his beautiful daughter who would never sleep with someone lower than her social status.

Lord Hugo was crying loudly, unable to stop no matter how much Flora tried to console him. Lord Hugo! Adams frowned as he watched Flora hug him tight, but this was no baby but Lord Hugo the deceased. Rebecca's dead husband turned and threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her lower body and wailing that Adams should have done more to help her then she and Master Archie may have lived.

Adams' mother was there, his dead mother – at least he thought it was her as he had only distant memories of her – but she was shaking her head in the same fashion she used to do when he had been so naughty even a good hiding wouldn't solve it. "You've really done it now, haven't you Andrew? Baby Hugo will be taken away and you'll never see the little laddie again!" She shrieked in that thick Glaswegian brogue he remembered her so well for, but instead of her presence being any sort of comfort to him he began to feel dizzy and incredibly hot. There was so much going on around him he didn't notice at first that Rebecca was gone from his arms, but when he looked down he was simply hugging a bloodied pillow and nothing more. Suddenly there was a sharp pain in his left temple, like a knife was slowly being forced into the side of his head, and rapidly the searing agony became almost unbearable to the point where he released the pillow and held the side of his head instead.

Lady Francesca was still laughing like an hysterical banshee, The Earl was shouting in his face, the room was spinning, and nothing seemed real any more. "Do you know how much that silverware is worth!" The old man screamed, his teeth bared like a rabid dog. "It's about bloody time you woke up to your duties in this house, man! Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP! And get your great head off my mahogany table!"

Adams' head shot up from his awkward position at the table and he blinked as the sweat from his forehead momentarily blurred his vision, but as it cleared he shoot a glance around the dining room as a wave of relief engulfed him.

The Earl was stood over him, huffing and glaring at his pocket watch and mumbling something about not being able to get the staff these days. For a moment Adams did nothing but stare at the fork his head had been resting on, the offending item's sharp prongs gleaming up at him, one tipped with a drop of blood where it had pierced the skin. The rest of the Earl's finest yet only half polished Georgian cutlery was strewn about the table as Adams brought himself out of his stupor and jumped to his feet before the Earl could admonish him for that little error too.

"Sir!" Adams spluttered, staring directly ahead. His had such bad head rush he thought he might pass out as everything turned momentarily black, and his legs were far weaker than he had thought. It was if he really had been running instead of it all being just a horrible, vivid dream, and he worried that they would suddenly give way from under him. He wondered if he had been shouting in his sleep, if he had he may just have given the game away over Rebecca and her twins' paternity, but His Lordship gave no indication this was the case, if indeed he had been there long enough to hear anything damning.

"I will be sure Jarvis hears about this, sleeping on duty!" The Earl snorted, scanning the loose cutlery in mild abhorrence. "I've a good mind to dock your pay for two whole months at least!"

Some things never change, whether it be in dreamland or in reality, Adams mused as he verbally agreed wholeheartedly that should the Earl see fit to dock his wages then he would be most grateful for it.

"And the Paul de Lamerie still needs picking up from the hallway, I don't know, I should sack the lot of you, Jarvis included!"

Paul de Lamerie! Adams' heart began to race furiously as he gawped at the Earl in horror. The silverware! But…but that accident was a dream for Christ's sake! Wasn't it!

"Come on then, chop chop!" The Earl barked as he marched to the doorway and peered out. "And I want to see Mrs Ry….I mean Mrs Jarv…oh for goodness sake, whatever her new name is – my damn housekeeper so I can impress on her the importance of not allowing young foolish maids to carry around my finest silverware without supervision!"

Phew, Adams thought, exhaling as he experienced his second wave of relief in the space of minutes. He must have somehow heard the tray being dropped in his sleep and it had crept into his psyche. Then it occurred to him, how could he not know Flora's married name considering who her husband is? It seemed bizarre but plausible to Adams that the Earl had forgotten Jarvis' real name, it wasn't that he just didn't want to call him by it; he actually couldn't REMEMBER it any longer.

"Mrs Corey, sir." Adams informed him, but his mind had wandered to thinking about Rebecca and how he would be spending every minute of the day by her side, his newborn son in his arms, given even half a chance.

His Lordship roughly folded his arms and pouted in spoilt annoyance. "Yes well," He frowned, "My entire staff seem far too preoccupied with my guests at the moment so I'll probably be last on her list, especially now Rebecca's awake, I mean really Jarvis needs to keep a better eye on her, can't have her strutting about above stairs too much in her condition it's unsightly….."

One minute he's complaining that his butler is spending too much time with his wife, the next he's not watching her enough, Adams thought with a furtive smirk, the pompous ass just says the first thing that comes into his head most of the time….hold on….did he just say….?

"Her Ladyship is awake, sir?" Adams hurriedly asked his employer in a calm but slightly strained voice, picking up a knife and furiously polishing it so he wasn't just standing there like a great sour pudding in front of him.

"Yes, yes, I believe so. People fussing round her, damned attention-seeking if you ask me." The Earl nodded, waving his hand dismissively as if Adams had merely asked the rather frivolous question of whether His Lordship would prefer scrambled or devilled eggs for breakfast.

Adams' heart leapt for joy; he wanted to throw his arms around the Earl and kiss him but thought it anything was going to get him the sack then that would, although the worst thing that could happen would for His Lordship to actually enjoy it.

"Do you wish me to find Mrs Corey now, sir?" Adams asked hopefully, edging slowly towards the door. "If she's upstairs I'm sure I can find her in an instant…."

"No, no, I've changed my mind!" The Earl grunted, looking mildly pleased with himself for such decisiveness on his part. Adams' face soured. Why won't the old goat just piss off and leave me alone!

"No come with me Andrews, I want mid morning tea in the Orangery right now and I'll be damned if some sick woman is going to stop me from having my fancies! I want you with me until I decide to go for a ride, although it is so very hot today I may just have a bath and you can undress me! I haven't had a decent one for months, the ater over there was downright foul!"

Adams' shoulders visibly sagged as the Earl stormed out of the dining room. It may have been slightly more bearable for him if the silly sod actually got his name right, but the thought of Rebecca lying there, vulnerable and confused, without him by her side made the whole thing seem an awful lot worse. He was delighted she was awake and therefore likely to be getting better, but at the same time while she was unconscious at least nobody else could tell her the terrible news about her second-born twin. He should be the one to do it, the only saving grace was that he was sure Lizzie wouldn't say anything until he could get to her.

"You're right, My Lord, it is so very hot today." Adams agreed as he followed his master into the hallway, an idea having struck him. "And the orangery can get rather warm in this weather, and sometimes has very little breeze, is there anything that I can arrange to make it more comfortable for you?"

The Earl's brow furrowed as he pondered for a moment Adams watching him eagerly and waiting for the response he knew he had initiated. Adams remembered that last summer the old buffoon thought it most exotic to have either Fred or Joe fanning him in the heat of the day while he lounged on a chaise in the orangery, munching his way through a month's worth of fruit – mainly grapes - in the space of a few hours. He had thoroughly enjoyed the experience of having his Indian manservant helping him indulge in such an activity for weeks on end, and now they had brought back those rather large, delicate fans from India Adams knew that the he could at least put two and two together himself, with a little prompting, and come up with the perfect solution to get Adams off the hook.

"D'you know, I've had the most marvellous idea!" The Earl exclaimed, puffing out his chest and grinning broadly. "Get that whatsisname, Malkin, to bring the fans! Who needs riding, eh!"

"Very good, sir." Adams smiled surreptitiously to himself, musing that whatever Jarvis thought he still had the makings of an excellent butler. Desperate to get to Rebecca as quickly as possible, he turned on his heel and marched away to fetch unfortunate Frederick Matkin to take his place at the Earl's side for the rest of the morning – and the afternoon, most probably.

Meanwhile another anxious father, well to be, was pacing up and down and waiting for his chance to speak to the very busy Dr Evans who had graciously agreed to examine his wife; well as graciously as anyone could agree after the husband and prospective father had threatened to send him home to his new wife in several small boxes if he didn't drop what he was doing, namely checking Lord Hugo's reflexes, and come and check on Mrs Corey.

A moment later the bedroom door opened and a smiling Dr Evans and still grumpy Flora returned.

"Your child is just fine Mr Jarvis." The doctor exclaimed on seeing the Butler's still anxious expression.

"Well I told him that!" Flora snapped. "But would he listen to me? No I'm only the child's mother! Honestly Walter what was the point of dragging me away from my duties and poor doctor away from his patients just to cure your paranoia!"

"But you said you felt a pain!" Jarvis defended. "Surely I had the right to be worried."

"It was just a false contraction Mr Jarvis nothing to worry about really and quite common especially in times of stress and I think the last few days could be described as stressful don't you?" The Doctor replied. "However if you want to check for yourself please be my guest." He added handing the Butler his stethoscope.

Intrigued Jarvis accepted the instrument eagerly walking over to the now huffing but still unresisting Flora and placing the metal pad over her stomach. At first he didn't hear anything but then the doctor guided his hand and suddenly the telltale thump of a strong steady heartbeat filled his ears and he couldn't contain the small smile of delight that lit up his face.

"See the baby is fine!" Flora snapped pushing all those hands away from her belly and heading for the door. "Now you gentlemen would excuse me some of us still believe in an honest days work!" And with that she turned and left them to it.

"So everything is really alright?" Jarvis asked softly. "You understand why I am concerned what with everything that has gone on lately…."

"Your child appears perfectly healthy as far as we can tell Mr Jarvis however…" The Doctor trailed off shifting about uneasily.

"However?" Jarvis demanded.

"I have frequently mentioned to Mrs Corey the need to slow down and take things easy, she always says that she will but on each of my trips out here I have not seen any signs that she has been taking my advice."

"I know what you mean but she is a very stubborn woman." Jarvis replied shaking his head sadly. "She won't even listen to me when I tell her to rest and I'm her husband!"

"Nether the less you must find someway of making her listen Mr Jarvis!" The Dr Evan retorted seriously. "At the present the child appears perfectly fine but at this stage in the pregnancy the mother is supposed to be doing very little indeed, too much stress and exertion could lead to a premature delivery and that we must avoid at all costs!"

"Well I've tried but she is so damned committed to her job that getting her to hand over responsibilities is like getting blood out of a stone!"

"Well it's my advice that she gives it up completely!" The Doctor retorted in all seriousness. "After all what difference will a few months make, its not like she could work and raise the child, so she'd have to give it up then anyway!" He added chuckling at the ludicrous thought of the housekeeper trying to juggle both baby and career.

"Well I'll see to it she does. Thanks you Doctor." The Butler added holding his out his hand to shake Dr Evan's firmly before escorting him back to his other patients, his thoughts in a constant turmoil, just how the hell was he going to get Flora to willingly give up work?...Although perhaps…just perhaps he wouldn't need to…perhaps there was another much more straightforward, but underhand, solution to this whole problem?

By the time Adams had reached the top of the stairs, after ordering poor Fred to 'jump to it' with the Earl, he still hadn't decided how to tell Rebecca about poor little Archie's fate. Not matter how he phrased it in his head it seemed to harsh a way to tell her, all the words were jumbled up and eventually he decided that he would just have to see how it came out. He was going to make sure that she would have seen Hugo before gently breaking the awful truth, he didn't want her to know before hand unless she became so distraught she didn't even want to see her surviving child, Heaven forbid such a terrible thought. He would hold her tight, tell her how wonderful it was she pulled through and how he always knew she could would be fine, his darling Becca. He would tell her how beautiful baby Hugo – the new Lord Hugo – looked cradled in her arms, and then, well….. It broke his heart just to picture her face, but he knew he had to do it himself and he assumed Lizzie and Molly would have the foresight to realise it was for the best, that he should be there for her instantly so she wasn't grieving alone.

As Adams reached Rebecca's bedroom, lost in thought and mumbling to himself, he almost walked square into his daughter as she came out of the room with a pile of towels and baby blankets bundled up in her arms so high she could barely see over them. The under-butler managed to steady himself but Lizzie lost her footing slightly and the laundry fell from her arms and scattered across the carpet at her feet.

"Careful, Elizabeth, you could do someone an injury!" Adams laughed sourly as Lizzie tutted and bent down to gather up the offending blankets.

"Hell's bells, first the silverware and now the towels, I don't know what's wrong with me today, all butter fingers." Lizzie mumbled, obviously very distracted by her thoughts. Adams stared down at her, suddenly struck by the realisation that quite possibly things were not about to go as he had planned. His hand hovered by the door, but at that moment Lady Caroline sauntered past looking in an especially foul mood considering one of her best friends had just come round from being at death's door.

"M'Lady." Adams coughed, nodding politely, but although Lady Caroline caught his eye it was as if she were looking straight through him to the door and she continued past with only a cursory unamused glance at Lizzie, who was furiously re-piling the towels and blankets. Quickly Adams glanced back over his shoulder then turned back to his daughter.

If Lizzie had caught sight of the hardened look on his face then she may have had serious reason to begin quaking in her summer shoes, but as it was she hadn't noticed his expression at all as she was still crouched down, her thoughts firmly fixed on the terrible state her mistress was now in. It hadn't even occurred to her that she had possibly made the biggest mistake she could have done in her father's eyes, she had no idea how cut off he had been feeling, why should she?

"She's been awake for nearly an hour now, we were so surprised when she came round, the doctor said it was a near miracle considering." Lizzie whispered as Adams clenched his jaw in stunned silence. "He says it'll take a while for her to get better, but she will be alright in the end, thank the heavens…."

"Elizabeth." Adams began slowly but threateningly, his flaring eyes boring into the top of her head. "Tell me you didn't tell Rebecca about Archie. Tell me you didn't!"

Lizzie paused in fright, still crouched down in front of her neat pile. The atmosphere between them suddenly tensed and Lizzie raised her head reluctantly to look at him, her eyes now wide in a mixture of confusion and guilt.

"F…father, I – er – well…."

"Did you or didn't you!" Adams demanded, raising his voice a little too loudly. He took a step closer and Lizzie visibly cowered, even the same dark eyes as her mother's unable to placate him into a calmer mood.

"Y…yes! I did, I had no choice!" She finally quivered, gradually rising to her feet but leaving the laundry exactly where she had stacked it, firmly between them.

"You silly, stupid, foolish girl!" Adams growled as Lizzie gave a small whimper of shock, hurriedly glancing around for her aunt's help with her maddened father. "How could you be so bloody irresponsible! It was up to _me_ to tell her, not _you_ , not anyone else either!"

"I'm s…sorry, I didn't think, I….." Lizzie stuttered helplessly, her large pleading eyes instantly pooling with large, unstoppable tears.

"You didn't think – well that much is obvious! Do you know what you have done! Have you any idea!" The under-butler thumped the wall and Lizzie jumped, shooting a glance at the door and wondering if her mistress was listening to all her father's ranting. Looking back at Adams a large tear trickled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away while beyond the door a baby's cries rang out.

"He's hungry," Lizzie began quietly, desperately trying to change the subject. "Mr Jarvis' mother is going to show Her Ladyship how to…."

Adams however was apparently not listening to her, and it quickly became obvious. "What did you say to her! Did you just blurt it out, oh by the way Your Ladyship in case you were wondering your other baby is dead!"

"N….no, of course not father, she asked, I……"

"And you didn't think to fetch me!" Adams fumed. "Instead you just went straight ahead and told her, what must she think of me? It's bad enough I wasn't there in the first place, but to hear it from _you_ when it's none of your damn business!"

"Father please!" Lizzie begged in a cracked, sobbing voice. "Don't shout, I thought I was doing what was best….!"

"What was best! Are you a complete imbecile, girl!"

Lizzie opened her mouth to protest as the tears swamped her flushed cheeks, but at that moment a rather perturbed Molly Watson flew into view, her skirts swishing about her. The young maid had never felt such relief, but as she turned to her aunt she was overcome with embarrassment and abandoning her laundry bundle ran past her, her face buried in her hands. Molly breathed out deeply through her nose and glared at her brother scaldingly, reminding him of his awful dream and that same look on their mother's face. Molly was the image of her, and that was probably the only reason he could remember her features so well in his mind's eye.

"What on _earth_ is going on here!" She hissed, glancing from the laundry at Adams' feet and up to the look of absolute fury on his face. "Now the little one is crying and Lizzie's upset, your voice can be heard right down the corridor and to the stairwell, d'you want Lord Farquarson, or the Earl for that matter, to get wind of your reasons for being up here!"

Adams simply shrugged and lowered his voice to a deep growl. "Lizzie's gone and told Rebecca about Archie!"

"Yes, I know!" Molly replied firmly as she inched towards Rebecca's door. "Is that why you're in such a state?"

"You _knew_ !" Adams snorted in disbelief, reaching out and grabbing his sister by her wrist and dragging her like a rag doll into an unoccupied bedroom, slamming the door behind them.

"Andrew what d'you think you are doing!" Molly demanded shrilly, trying in futility to struggle from his firm grip. "Yes I knew, but I didn't suggest she do it! She had done it before I got to her!"

"Yes but you could have come and got me as soon as Rebecca woke up, not make me look a damn fool and have her hate me in the process!"

It had been a long time since Molly had seen her brother in such a furious rage, the last time was back in Glasgow and her wayward husband had given her the most brutal hiding of her life for simply buying a new pair of shoes without his permission. She had been left with three broken fingers when he wrenched off her wedding ring so he could make the point of throwing it across the room, her battered frame following it soon afterwards.

It had taken an awful lot of persuasion from Molly to prevent her brother from giving her husband far more than a Glasgow kiss. This time, however, she felt her powers of persuasion would be nothing against the force that was that typical Adams obstinate nature.

"Andrew, stop being so damn selfish!" She said sharply, finally pulling herself away from Adams' grip and roughly folding her arms. "Lizzie had a duty to tell her, she's Rebecca's lady's maid for pity's sake, what was she to do when she began asking for her other baby!"

Adams snorted and rolled his eyes. "Come and GET ME! How many more bloody times do I have to get the message through to you women that I wanted to be there, she needed me!"

"But you weren't there were you, you had your duties to attend to, I couldn't simply barge in if you were with the Earl and say Andrew sorry to bother you but you'd better come and tell your aristocratic mistress that your illegitimate child had died!" Molly shouted in frustration as Adams' eyes widened in surprise at her outburst. "This has nothing to do with Rebecca and everything to do with that stupid male pride of yours you've always had! You're as stubborn as a bloody mule Andrew Adams and no mistake!"

"For God's sake, Molly, I'm the children's father!" Adams paced the room like a caged animal, his breathing laboured. He rubbed his forehead and sighed, shutting his eyes and gulping hard. This was ridiculous, why on earth were they arguing when he should be in the other room with Rebecca?

But that didn't stop Molly, she had had enough of aggressive men to last a life-time. "Did you really have to shout at Lizzie, couldn't you have been more tactful, although I suppose that would be too much to ask from you! She's only a child, and yours at that!"

"She deserved it, Molly! She should know better than to interfere in someone else's business, and as for being my daughter, well, how can I be certain!" Adams yelled, swinging round and throwing his arms up. "Come on, tell me, how can I, eh!"

"What on earth do you mean?" Molly asked quietly, the wind completely taken from her sails.

Adams leant in at his sister, his voice in a dangerously low whisper. "Well, her mother _says_ that she's mine, but I don't know that for certain, I mean we both know what a – a whore her mother was at the time, God knows how many men she had been with before or after she got to me!"

"Oh that's ridiculous, anyone can see how much she looks like you, you can't get out of your paternal duty to her that easily Andrew!" Molly laughed in almost mocking and patronising tone at his idiocy. Adams huffed. "Lizzie and now Hugo were the best things to happen to you, and not everyone can be so lucky in life to have two lovely children so you should be grateful and stop this immature attitude! And from what I've heard – and seen - of the vicar's wife Catherine you should thank your lucky stars for Rebecca, seems like she is the exception to your norm considering your history!"

"Why what the hell have you heard!" Adams asked, flushing crimson as he knew what was coming.

"I've heard enough, Mrs Corey and I had an awful lot of time to talk over the last six months and she's told me some things about you, my dear brother, and Catherine Postlebury nee. Stanwick was certainly scraping the bottom of the barrel even for you!" Molly snapped savagely, backing up against the door.

"I'm not talking about this now – no, I'm not talking about this ever again Molly, d'you understand!" Adams barked back at her, unaware that a certain new maid had appeared outside the door and was now listening in to every word. "That is nothing to do with you, or with Flora Corey – I wish to God people would keep their noses out of _my_ business for once! And how I talk to my daughter is certainly no concern of yours! And you're hardly a paragon of virtue yourself are you Molly Watson!"

Molly visibly riled, her striking green eyes narrowing. "Well once an Adams always an Adams, and don't you dare compare your liaisons with what I did – what I _had_ to do! You know why I'm here…..!"

"Yes I know very well why you've stayed here on more than just a temporary basis as was originally planned, and it ain't to do with that very much alive husband of yours, I've eyes in my head Molly!"

Molly fell silent and blushed, but as she opened her mouth to try to deny what her brother may be insinuating Adams spoke over her.

"Yes, I know, Joseph James of all people, and right under Jarvis' nose! I remember, six months isn't all that long ago you know and you're all he ever talked about in India!" Adams grinned sourly at his revelation as Molly's sullen expression turned to one of wide-eyed surprise.

"Joseph! That's….that's madness, sheer lunacy!" Molly gasped, clutching at her chest. What if that's what everyone was thinking? Surely not, she had put Joe firmly in his place over that nonsense, unless – that night in the Orangery – no, she would have heard the rumours.

"Look, I'm really not interested right now, now get the hell out of my way, I'm not in the mood! This is hardly the time or the place!" Adams stepped towards the door, reaching for the handle, but Molly quickly positioned herself so his path was completely blocked.

"You need to calm down before I let you go near that vulnerable young woman, she's in a very fragile state!" Molly protested, but her voice began to waver slightly as her gaze locked with her brother's.

"No thanks to Elizabeth McDuff! Now move Molly, do as I say – I am your brother and although I would never strike you, without your husband around you will obey me!" That was enough for Molly, so fighting back a tear she submissively stepped silently aside to watch Adams glare at her one last time before flinging open the door.

"Here, you will need a reason to go in there, people are around." Molly whispered, her voice still shaken in anger and upset as she handed him a folded sheet from the unused bed. She looked away from him but he forced a muttered 'thank you' and left. Molly waited a moment so she could compose herself with a deep breath. She wasn't sure what alarmed him more, the fact that Andrew had been so beastly to her or the thought that everyone – including him – thinks she is in regular liaisons with Joseph James. She would most definitely have to have a strong word with the footman about that, she resolved as she flew out of the room, but she was jolted out of her thoughts when she saw a young girl preening herself in the large oval mirror in the hallway.

"Henrietta Willis what _are_ you doing!" Molly demanded, causing the girl to instantly whip round in surprise.

"Mrs Watson, I was, er…cleaning the mirror." She stammered, forcing a smile which Molly knew to be as fake as the girl's sweet manner, played out wonderfully whenever her superiors were around.

"Well I have never heard of vanity being much use to anybody Miss Willis so you would be better picking up all of those sheets and towels and taking them to the laundry." Molly ordered flatly as she gazed down the hallway distractedly at the sound of a faint voice drifting up from by the front door.

"But it was Lizzie who……"

"I don't care, just do as I say." Molly fumed, ushering past her. "You may be new here Henrietta but coming from such a respectable household I expect you to be able to pick up a few bits of laundry when asked!" The under-housekeeper didn't wait for a reply, but if she had been less distracted by the annoyingly unexpected visitor she may have noticed a vicious tongue being pulled firmly in her direction.

"And it's not Henrietta you stupid cow, it's Hettie!" The maid sniffed spitefully to herself as she bundled the laundry in her arms and stormed away.

Molly had hurriedly only taken two stairs on the main staircase when she glanced up and stopped in her tracks. The mysterious visitor smiled broadly at her from the foot of the stairs as Molly gasped, studying him inquisitively but with a well of excitement building in her chest. His sideburns were remarkably shorter than before and his moustache was gone, making him look younger and more appealing, and his full head of slightly greying hair although groomed and curled as she would have expected was more ruffled than normal giving him a slightly rugged appearance. However Molly would recognise those soft, hazel eyes anywhere and in that moment she had never experienced such happiness.

"Monty." She uttered under her breath, as if trying to convince herself that it was true. She hadn't seen him since that day after Christmas when everyone had departed for London and he and Francesca had set out to travel back up to Scotland. She had received only one letter from him so to avoid suspicion, telling her that he would be away for three months in Africa, and it showed. He had tanned beautifully and Molly wondered naughtily to herself where else he may have caught the sun.

"Mrs Watson how delightful to see you." Lord Montgomery said politely, greeting her with a slight bow, his top hat tucked under his arm.

"My Lord." Molly replied, curtseying and slowly descending the stairs and desperately trying to remain professional and distant in case of prying eyes. "Your carriage, has it been taken care of? I hope all your luggage has arrived safely. I'm sorry I don't know why nobody's here to greet you, it is most unacceptable, where on earth is Mr Jarvis?"

"No it is me who must apologise." Monty corrected her as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "I am on unexpected business in Bristol and Algie had kindly said that I would be welcome to stay even at short notice, and I thought why not stay here? It will only be for a week maximum, I hope I'm not intruding."

"No, certainly not." Molly said quickly, her cheeks flushing. All she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and kiss him, but she kept her distance except for taking his hat.

"And anyway, I don't care about everybody else, Mrs Watson, seeing you is enough." Monty whispered, a mischievous fire in his eyes. "And before you ask, which I know you will do, purely for the number of beds to be made up of course, I am unaccompanied this visit as my good lady wife is too far on with child to make the trip. Such a damn shame."

"That is unfortunate, My Lord. Oh, Rebecca!" Molly gasped, realising she had so much to tell him. "She has – had two sons, baby Hugo and……."

"Monty, my good man!" The Earl marched into the hallway, grinning furiously as he grasped Monty firmly by the hand and shook it. Fred hurried after him, looking extremely exasperated and clutching an oversized fan causing Monty to raise his eyebrows in amusement.

"Algie, so sorry to drop in like this…."

"Nonsense, nonsense, wonderful to see you!" The Earl was positively ecstatic, pleased to have another gentleman around the house with whom he could socialise without them drinking themselves into a stupor and vomiting over the antique carpets. He turned to Molly who had backed off but hadn't removed her gaze from Monty for a second. "Well, Mrs Watmore, what are you standing there for, the floors won't scrub themselves you know! Oh and go and find Jarvis!"

Molly jumped out of her daze and curtseyed with a blunt 'yes, M'Lord', but Monty gave her a subtle wink and a come-to-bed smile which told her she may find herself occupied at some point that evening. She turned hurriedly, mainly so the Earl wouldn't see her blush crimson again, and marched away with a huff.

"Scrubbing floors indeed. He has no idea what I do around here, and scrubbing floors _certainly_ isn't one of them!" She muttered furiously to herself, although her heart could hardly have been singing any louder. Damn the Earl if he was going to upset her happiness on seeing Monty for the first time in months. Tonight, she thought as she swept into the servants quarters, was something she deserved after the day she had had and woe betide anyone who would unwittingly come between her and a taste of happiness!

-----

Adams had stormed out of the room leaving Molly in his wake - whether he had upset her or not was the very last thing on his mind as was the fact that that new maid he still hadn't said a word to yet was busy watching him storming across the hallway. Her narrow eyes widened in interest as she observed him through the reflection of the mirror she was gazing into, but he didn't even glance in her direction as he quietly opened the door to the one room she would have thought would have been out of bounds to him, and silently slipped inside.

There on the bed before him Rebecca was propped up with so many pillows it was a wonder she could be seen at all, and cradled in her rocking arms was an already familiar small bundle. She was brushing her nose across the baby's forehead, which Adams could just about see peeping out of the blanket, and softly humming a rather wistful sounding lullaby, but to Adams in that moment it was the most awesome and joyful sight he could have imagined.

"Rebecca? Oh, Rebecca!" Adams sighed, hurrying over to the bed as she looked up and wrapped his arms around her shoulders in a desperate embrace. "I was so worried about you, for a moment there I thought Hugo and I had lost you." He brushed the long, unruly hair from her face and planted small kisses on her cheek, but he was mildly disappointed when Rebecca's only half-hearted response was to clasp his hand and look back down at the sleeping child. It was if she hadn't registered Adams' concerns for her welfare, her thoughts were so consumed with other things and anything he was feeling was now secondary to the new life in her arms and her own consuming grief for the child she had lost.

"He opened his eyes before you came in." Rebecca whispered, but her tone was less than joyful and had an element of sadness and longing in it. "D'you think he knows who I am?"

Adams smiled reassuringly, shifting himself onto the bed and leaning in to carefully stroke Hugo's amazingly soft cheek. He knew she was stalling talking about Archie, but it was to be expected. The only thing he could do was to humour her and wait for her to speak his name. "Of course he knows who you are, you're his mother. I read somewhere that it's instinct." Adams said quietly as Hugo yawned and wriggled in his mother's arms before settling down again to sleep.

"You've been reading about babies?" Rebecca asked, a detectable smile flittering across her lips then disappearing as quickly as it had come.

"Yes, I did a lot of reading in India, Flora had kindly bought me a book before we left, says she thought she may as well get two while she was at the shop, one for Mr Jarvis of course." Adams smiled, studying the baby's face, then Rebecca's, in the hopes of detecting every single similarity between them. "It's completely up-to-date, first edition 1849, she told me I needed to read up as she knew how useless men could be but I could tell the book was written for women, especially the chapter entitled 'To Knit or to Crotchet – That is the Question'."

That same smile tugged at Rebecca's mouth again but she didn't respond verbally, instead she unwrapped Hugo from his blanket until it was hanging about him so she could marvel at him, desperate for his presence to consume the pain she was suffering at Archie's loss. "He's so small." She exclaimed in a surprised whisper, running her hand delicately down the baby's arms and legs. "And so perfect. He's beautiful, Andrew. He cried before but stopped when I picked him up."

"And he held my finger yesterday – well, not quite, but it was like he was holding it." Adams announced proudly, kissing Rebecca again. He thought the best thing to do was to keep talking, he wasn't sure what else could comfort her right now, if anything.

"He looks like you, he's got your mouth although Flora has mentioned he has my nose which I can't deny, I just hope your father doesn't notice the similarity, not that he'll go actively looking for it of course! I was amazed at his hair though, it's so vibrant considering he's newborn, he's going to be such a striking little laddie, he takes after his bonnie mother. I'm so proud of you, Rebecca."

"Does Archie have red hair?" Rebecca wondered quite unexpectedly, and Adams felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably. It had been a strange first question about their second twin but he put it down to her not being quite herself, nevertheless she had at least begun to talk about him which had to be some sort of start.

"Er no, he has dark hair, not much of it mind." Adams replied cautiously, studying Rebecca to gain some sort of reaction, but unusually she looked rather vacant apart from a small inquisitive frown. "They aren't identical, Archie looks far more like Molly, but your father's chin is unmistakable…."

"I have to see him!" Rebecca suddenly wailed, clutching Hugo to her chest. "I _must_ see him now, please tell me he's not been buried or taken away!"

"Shh, no he's still here, he's in the nursery, I was so worried your father would insist on burial before you woke up but thankfully you can say your goodbyes." Adams tried to sooth her by rubbing her back but she pushed him away, indicating to the door as her eyes brimmed with the first tears of grief. "Get him now Andrew, please!"

"But Rebecca, I'm not sure if you're ready….."

"Andrew do this for me!" Rebecca pleaded, and Adams' heart ached as seeing her so distraught. "If I don't see him…I don't care how bad he looks, Andrew, he'll always look perfect to me."

Adams sighed, his shoulders sagging. How could he not do as she asked when she looked at him with such longing? With a reluctant nod he left the room, returning moments later with what immediately looked like only a bundle of blankets. "This is the first time I've held him." He whispered, gulping back any emotion. Rebecca didn't reply, simply stared. She wanted to see him, but at the same time she couldn't face it. If Andrew handed him to her then she would have to look, so without resisting she watched as he carefully placed Archie on the bed and took Hugo from her. Now it was her turn to hold him, but her arms were shaking so much as she reached out and scooped up his lifeless frame she was terrified of dropping him. With a quivering hand she pushed the blanket back from her son's face as the tears dropped silently down her cheeks.

"There's a mark on his neck." She muttered shakily as Adams climbed back onto the bed next to her, Hugo burbling blissfully unawares in his father's arms.

"Yes, that's where….the cord….Rebecca I'm so sorry you had to hear it from someone else, it should've been me who told you." Adams spluttered but Rebecca didn't respond. To her it hadn't mattered who had told her, it didn't make the news any less tragic.

"He's got such tiny hands." She gasped as her voice became choked, running her thumb across his small, lifeless fist. "He's even smaller than his brother, but he should have lived! I've killed our son, I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!" With a terrible sob she hugged the dead baby tightly, burying her face in Adams' shoulder and crying inconsolably. Adams shut his eyes and winced, stroking her hair and trying desperately to think of the right things to say.

"Hey there's nothing to forgive, it wasn't your fault!" Adams said in the most comforting tone he could muster but he heard his own voice beginning to falter. "It was an accident – no it wasn't even that, it was a circumstance. If there was nothing a doctor as competent as Dr Evans could do then there was certainly nothing you, or I or anyone else could have done. It is me who should be saying sorry to you for not being here when I so desperately wanted to be."

But nothing he said could console her, she was hardly even listening to him and her knuckles had gone white she was gripping Archie's blanket so tightly. Minutes passed by and she was still sobbing and Adams wondered whether she would ever be able to forgive herself even though he and everyone else knew it had been out of her control. Hugo had begun to wake and he wriggled furiously in Adams' arms, his burbling becoming a loud, hungry cry and he remembered what Lizzie had said about it being time for his feed.

"Come on now, Becca." Adams muttered softly, shifting from the awkward position he had been sitting in for longer than his bones could cope with. "Shh, stop crying, I know you need to grieve but it's probably best if I take Archie back to the nursery now, Hugo needs you."

"But Andrew I don't know if I can!" Rebecca whimpered almost hysterically, raising her tired head from his shoulder. "If I give Archie back to you I'll never hold him again, and I'm so exhausted, what am I meant to do with a baby! I mean I've no idea, I've never had one before, but I can't bear the thought of a nanny bringing him up and me hardly ever seeing him!"

"You'll be an amazing mother, I know you will." Adams smiled, temporarily placing a now screaming and kicking Hugo back in the crib then easing Archie out of Rebecca's grip. "I'll go and fetch Emily Corey, it said in that book that it'll take you a while to get used to breast feeding but you'll manage in the end. She'll know what to do."

"I don't know if I can do it!" Rebecca wailed, wrapping her arms around her stomach and painfully shifting down the bed. "I can't even bear to look at myself, I feel so horrible, so...empty!"

By now Adams felt bereft of things to say. He had that familiar feeling of uselessness weighing down on him, she couldn't see – or didn't want to see – just how sad and tired he too felt but he had to be strong for both of them. But before he could try his very best at more feeble and innocuous soothing there was a light tap on the door and Emily poked her head around the door. She frowned when she saw Adams and opened her mouth to ask why on earth the under-butler was sniffing around an obviously sick and fragile aristocrat but when she saw tiny Archie in Adams' arms she realised Rebecca must have asked him to fetch him for her. Why she couldn't have asked her lady's maid Emily was unsure but thought the poor dear was probably not in her best frame of mind so decided not to ask questions.

"Your Ladyship." Emily said awkwardly, her eyes darting from the crib to Rebecca who had barely acknowledged Emily's presence in the room. Emily indicated to Adams with an admonishing nod to get Archie out of there sharpish, besides they had delicate women's issues to discuss, most importantly Hugo's rather urgent feed.

"Rebecca dear." Emily cooed, deciding that breaking title protocol was a good way to try to calm the poor woman down. "I'm just going to take Hugo to the nursery to change his nappy, then we can talk about your duties……."

"NO!" Rebecca yelled as Emily bent down to scoop up Hugo. Both Emily and Adams stared at her in shock as she pulled back the covers and pushed herself to the edge of the bed, her pretty features screwed up in agony as she forced herself to stand for the first time since going into labour.

"Why ever not, dear, he needs changing…." Emily tried to reason, but Rebecca was on her feet and struggling over to the crib before she could finish her sentence. Adams was desperate to intervene but couldn't, he didn't think Emily was aware of his involvement with Rebecca but he didn't wish to test it out quite so blatantly so backed towards the door with Archie.

"If he needs changing you can do it here – no, _I_ can do it here!" Rebecca shouted as she squeezed herself in between the old woman and the crib, Hugo's screams becoming louder. "You're not taking him out of this room, I forbid you to, he's staying in here with me! I'm not letting him out of my sight, I've already lost one baby, I'll be damned if I'm losing another because I failed to keep watch over him!"

Emily quickly backed down, moving away from the crib and trying to keep her own temper in check, but although she had never lost a child herself – well not straight after birth anyway – she thought Rebecca's almost violent reaction quite understandable and this helped her keep her composure. "Alright, alright." She soothed, but Rebecca felt herself becoming quite faint and collapsed in a sobbing heap into Emily's arms.

"I think you'd better get back to bed." Emily suggested as Adams reluctantly backed out of the door. "I'll fetch his fresh towel and change him here, I'll teach you if you like but you'll have a new nanny when you return home. I'll take as long as you need, I'm here to help."

"But I don't want a nanny!" Rebecca wailed, but as Adams carefully shut the door behind him their talking became muffled and he felt even more left out than before. He wanted to help change Hugo, be there when he was being fed (at an appropriate distance, of course) and rock him to sleep but somehow he knew he would hardly get to do any of these things, especially in the crucial first months.

He glanced down at Archie, the baby son he will always miss and always wonder about, and his heart broke all over again. It would take him too a long time to come to terms with it but he felt he had best not burden Rebecca with his own feelings, she had enough to contend with just now. Maybe in time they could talk about him – she never even said whether she liked the name he had given him. He wondered what it would be like when Hugo was old enough to understand, how he would feel knowing a part of him was missing. With a heavy heart, Adams carried Archie back to the nursery, not knowing when he would be able to see Rebecca and Hugo alone again. As for Lizzie, she now had a brother she would see every day, he would become even more distant from the family he had the right to head.

Lizzie now hated him, he was sure, he had been horrible to Molly and Rebecca was inconsolable. He would chat to Jarvis if he felt he would get any sense out of him but he was all gooey-eyed over Flora and the idea of his own child, at this rate he felt a drinking session with Felix coming on, it had worked wonders in London and India so why the hell not.

First, however, he had to make sure the plans for Archie's funeral went according to plan. The Earl had given permission for the baby to be buried in the family vault in memory of Lord Hugo senior and Adams didn't want Lord Farquarson suddenly changing his mind and whisking him away. He lowered him onto Lord Harry's old bed and covered his body carefully with his blanket as a lone tear sprang from his eye and splashed down, soaking through the white cotton.

"Your mummy and I will always love you and we'll never forget you." He whispered, placing a small, weary kiss on the baby's nose before reluctantly covering his tiny face. His thoughts had now turned to the worrying matter of Lord Farquarson's plans for Rebecca and Hugo, there was something Rebecca had wanted to tell him, something awful, but had never got the chance before she had gone into labour. He _had_ to find out somehow, whether that meant asking her directly in time or listening up against doors he wasn't sure, but one way or another he would know and put a stop to it, once and for all.

'He said what?' Grace shrieked, almost unable to believe what her friend had just told her. 'How do you-'

'How do I know? I know because I heard him! After Id gathered myself a little, I went back intending to pick up the towels the big oaf had knocked out of my hands … he'd started on Mrs Watson by then, then it was my mothers turn' Lizzie snapped as she strode back and forth across the kitchen as Grace poured the hot water into the sink.

'Your mother?' Grace puzzled as she lugged the large copper kettle back over to the hearth, tossing Lizzie a dishcloth, as she resumed her place at the basin.

'Well I managed to make out a 'how do I know' … 'her mother says she's mine' … 'God knows how many men' … and I believe 'whore' was casually thrown in there somewhere too!'

'You said you were the other side of the … are you sure he was talking about you?'

'Oh, Im sure alright, how many other illegitimate daughters has he fathered?'

'Well I don't-' Grace started, unable to finish as a fuming Lizzie, now well past the tearful stage, continued.

'Second thoughts, perhaps I should re-phrase that – how many illegitimate daughters, that he'll _admit_ to!'

'Slow down, take a few breaths – you wearing me out just looking at you - and tell me whats brought this on' Grace soothed, desperately trying to calm Lizzie.

'This is my fa-' she paused, after what she'd just heard she no longer she could use the word. 'Mr Adams, does the man need an excuse?'

After taking a moment to nod her head, eyebrows raised, acknowledging that her friend did have a point there, Grace cautiously ventured 'What made him say such a thing?'

'What have _I_ done you mean?' Lizzie supplied, never one for beating about the bush.

Grace said nothing in return, simply passing a dripping plate to the drier, shooting her a knowing look, before continuing with the washing up.

Signing heavily, Lizzie wasn't about to make out that she hadn't played her part in the quarrel, so she turned round, leaning back against the worktop so she could face Grace, as she confessed. 'I told Lady Rebecca about Archie.'

Grace immediately stopped what she was doing, looking at her friend somewhat reproachfully as she gushed 'Oh Liz, you didn't!'

'Oh I did' Lizzie owned up sheepishly, only now really comprehending the gravity of what she'd done.

'Don't you think it would have been best coming from-'

'Of course I do! But… but he wasn't there – and I _know_ that wasn't his fault, as will Rebecca – and honestly, just what was I supposed to do when she asked after the second?'

'How did you…?' Grace said with a heavy tone of concern.

'Tell her?' Lizzie supplied, as she placed the now dry plate back onto the rack where it belong, before trudging over to the kitchen table, taking a seat.

'It must have been awful.' Grace whispered, as she too abandoned her station, taking a seat next to the now quivering lady's maid.

'It was.' She gulped, her eyes welling up once more, continuing before her increasingly strained voice failed her. 'How do you tell a woman she's lost a child? They were the first thing on her mind when she came round, she asked for them with her first breaths, and then, when she saw it was only I and Molly there, she asked for my- … Mr Adams.'

'Did no one think to fetch him?' Grace spoke before she gave her self time to think, consequently sounding a tad condescending.

'Of course they did!' Lizzie scolded, sounding a little more harsh than intended.

For a tense moment the two maids looked at each other, but soon both acknowledged they hadn't meant what theyd said the way they sounded, exchanging understanding smiles before Lizzie went on. 'Yes, Mrs Watson slipped out to find him, whilst I made Rebecca a little more comfortable. A few moments later there was a small tap at the door, we both thought it was him, but only that new girl - Henrietta, is that her name? - popped her head round the door, lord knows why. She was gathering up the water jug, presumably to go and refill it, as Mrs Watson rushed back into the room. I looked down at Rebecca's expectant face, she'd hauled herself up, once again expecting him to appear. "I cant find him" Molly said, not noticing we had company. Panicking – both that he hadn't come and that she might click - I said the first thing that popped into my head, asking Henrietta to go and see if she could summon Dr Evans, which she did. As soon as she was out the door, Rebecca again began asking for her children and their father, Molly and I looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Mrs Watson said that she would go and find her brother, if I'd try to stall her. She was gone quite some time, what was I expected to say to her ladyship – make pleasant remarks about the weather we've been having whilst she was comatosed?'

'Well no' Grace interjected

'Well exactly. I thought Id go and get little Hugo, he'd already given his presence away when he began to grizzle. I gently lifted him out of his crib - he's light as a feather – and took him over to her. Grace, you should have seen her face, it, it just lit up like I'd never seen it before, she was absolutely in awe of him, scared to hold him at first, out of sheer nervousness I think, but when she held him, they took to each other straight away, anyone could see. I couldn't bear it, I had to turn away I could feel myself welling up, but that wasn't what gave it away. When I turned back round to face her, she had looked up from the little bundle in her arms, over to the other side of the room. The hair on the back of my neck trembled as she asked, so calmly, so innocently "Elizabeth, why is there only one bassinette?" Im never going to forget those words…' Lizzie trailed off, incapable of continuing as she moved to clasp her hands over her gasping mouth, the tears now streaming down her cheeks.

'What did you do then?' Grace breathed, as if on autopilot, the rest of her body unable to move, furiously blinking back her own tears.

'What else could I have done? She was struck dumb, my tears only confirmed that she had already dared to conclude. It wasn't too long before she started with the 'hows' and the 'whys' adding no further to them, just repeating them over and over again. I told her I didn't know why, that it was a horrible accident, that she shouldn't blame herself, I knew she would. I didn't have chance to tell her much else, before she began shouting that she wanted to see him, pleading with me to let her see him. She held Hugo out to me, hoping Id take him, but before I could – I thought she was going to drop him – there was another knock at the door.'

'Was it-?'

'Mr Adams? Molly? No, it was the new girl back again, Dr. Evans was on his way, but on her way, she'd passed Lady Caroline, taking it upon herself to inform Little Lady Fauntleroy that her ladyship had woken up, she was on her way.'

'Never one to miss a crisis that one, if only to stand on the sidelines!' Grace scoffed.

'Indeed' Lizzie agreed, before adding 'You know I think she thinks that if she plays up to them well enough …'

'Who, Lady Caroline?' Grace enquired, seemingly totally oblivious as to what her friend was saying.

'No, Henrietta …well, what ever her name is – you know, I think Lucy had best watch her back, definitely out for a lady's maid job that one, even if its someone else's!'

'She seems pretty quiet to me'

'She would do, but mark my words, theres some thing untoward about _that_ little madam.'

'If you say so…' Grace humoured her friend, if only to get her back to her original narrative.

'Yes I do. Anyway, I sent her away with the water jug, before returning to my Ladyship, who was desperately trying to remove herself, and her son from the bed. I tried to stop her, but she managed to get her strength from somewhere, she got as far as the foot, but couldn't get get out, if she had, I don't think she'd have been able to stand. She only conceded when she heard the tap on the door. 'Andrew!' she called out. 'Rebecca?' came a stern reply from outside, it was Lady Caroline, just as I'd known it would be. "Please?" I begged her, taking Hugo from her arms, showing her back to her pillow after she nodded, I wasn't quite sure she'd heard me, she appeared to be in some sort of daze. As soon as she was settled, I handed Hugo back to her saying 'Please, he needs you' – she obviously did hear that, as she replied 'Of course', she knew what she had to do. When all had calmed down, I strode over to the door and opened it to a 'About time too!'

'Tsk! All the thanks we get!' Grace huffed, rising from her place, resuming her task.

With heavy heart Lizzie followed her. 'Well, that was nothing to his _thanks. _I knew he'd be upset, but he didn't even try to understand why I had to do what I did'

'Maybe not, the man is obviously in a mess, but Im sure he will come round, I know you meant well Liz, and I'd have done the same, but just tell him your sorry-'

'Don't you think I tried that – time and time again – he's not listening!'

'He will, when hes calmed down.'

'No he wont'

'Of course he will, he's your-'

'No he wont, because he's had the last apology he's getting from me!'

'Come on Liz, you know you don't mean that!'

'Don't I? You know Grace, if he is going to disown me, then I bear absolutely no allegiance to him. My loyalty lies with Rebecca!' Lizzie countered determinedly.

'Your employer?'

'She more than that!'

'Only because you're your fathers daughter!' Grace reminded her

'No, no its not, how can it be when he says it himself – he's not my father!'

'Well, she doesn't think so!'

The temperature in the kitchen has risen a good few degrees in the last moment or so, having nothing to do with the open fire, instead being solely contributable to their rather heated conversation.

When the tension subsided, Lizzie spoke earnestly, 'You know she's too good for him, and not just because of the obvious! … When we were in Scotland, she treated me with such kindness, such affability I have never before received from a Mistress. Whether it was because she was missing Mrs Corey and Mrs Watson, I, I don't know, but it didn't feel that way to me. She'd call me into the library of an evening, where she used to escape to when she couldn't bear her sister's hilarity any longer, we'd talk, we'd take a turn about the grounds, she was invaluable when it came to Arlen-' Lizzie cut herself off, immediately scolding herself for making this most impromptu revelation.

'Arlen? Who is Arlen?' Grace questioned delightedly, straight away picking up on a new name.

'He's-'

'He?' Grace probed, tilting her head to the side, determined to engage her friend's stare.

'He….' She began, spontaneously gulping, as she had no idea how she was going to break this one. 'Lady Rebecca, she must have helped him … with this' she said softly, slowly raising her left arm to show the tiny silver ring on her hand.

At the sight of it Grace exploded 'How the hell did I miss that?'

Lizzie smiles cautiously, shrugging her shoulders. 'Beats me'

'You little pixie! Why didn't you tell me?'

'I am now'

'Oh!' Grace warned, placing her hands on her hips momentarily, before taking Lizzie's hand in both of hers, to get a better look. 'Is that-'

'A pearl, my birthstone'

'Your birth stone? How did he…? I don't even know what mine is!'

'That's how I know Rebecca helped him, she's well up on her precious stones, as you'd expect.'

'But Liz, who is he, surely this is a bit fast?'

'Not really, we've known each other since we were eight!

'Far enough!' Grace conceded with a giggle.

'His family lived on the estate near my home, I used to play on the land, the master seemed to be pretty fair, but he didn't like trespassers, so Arlen used to help me hide. When we thought no one was looking, we'd always be climbing the trees along the drive, but he'd grab my hand as soon as either of us heard the carriage, and we'd run as fast as we could to the lodge where he used to live, his father was the gamekeeper.'

'Was' Grace enquired, sensing a change in tone when Lizzie said the word.

'Yes, until his little brother got caught poaching, the Laird was pretty keen on upholding the Gaming Act they'd just brought in, he was trying to get to Westminster.'

'That's a bit harsh isn't it, did he get put away, thank god it wasn't Ar-'

'Arlen, oh, he used to do it occasionally, he always used to help out if mum and I were short, he was good like that, especially when she got ill.' Lizzie paused for a moment, gathering herself, as she always got quite upset whenever she thought of her mother, the mother she knew was nothing like the one her so-called-father had just described. 'No, thankfully for Malcolm, they didn't involve the law, but their father felt so badly about it that, well, they had to move on.

'So the childhood sweethearts were separated.' Grace swooned, thinking out loud more than anything.

'Oh no, there was none of that! Rebecca thought the same when she saw how at ease we were with each other, but I'm telling you now, as I tried to tell her, he was more like a brother!'

'Not anymore though.'

'No. Now, now he's stronger, wiser … the perfect gentleman' Lizzie began, closing her eyes so she could see his handsome face.

'Everything a girl could wish for, eh?' Grace offered.

'He is most amiable.' Lizzie agreed with a fond smile and a nod of the head, as she gazed down at her ring, adjusting the way it sat on her finger.

'Aimiable!' Grace almost spat, taken aback at the apathetic nature of such a word. 'Lizzie, is he all _you_ could want?'

Lizzie's head shot up, startled at the question she had just been posed. 'Of course!' she retorted, rather too half-heartedly for he friend's liking.

Grace knew she was risking a vehement response, but she just had to ask 'What about-'

'Don't!' Lizzie instructed, looking her straight in the eye, which were pleading as much as her next word 'Please' she uttered.

It was here, as the two maids were locked in each others gaze, one desperately trying to appease the other's inquiry, the other looking for the flicker which would confirm her suspicions, that the door swung open, and the two young friends whirled round simultaneously to see who it was, one face falling even further when they found out.

'You are needed upstairs Lizzie'

'And who may I ask requests me?' Lizzie countered

'Your father wishes to speak to you child.' Molly spoke gently, as she knew her niece may be in a somewhat fragile state.

At these words, Lizzie glanced back at Grace, before striding forward towards the under-housekeeper. 'My father, now, who would that be? Half the men in Glasgow by the sounds of it' she seethed.

'Lizzie, I'm-'

'If Mr Adams wishes to address me, though lord knows why he should, he can do it through Mrs Corey, until then, I shall be attending her ladyship, in which ever way I see fit.' she stated quite abrasively, brushing passed the stunned woman in the door way as she swept off to her duties.

After a few moments of just standing there, the realisation that they had been overheard fully settling itself on her shoulders, Molly took in a deep breath before starting 'She kno….'

Grace did not speak at this, she simply snatched another plate out of the sink, picked up the cloth and once she'd begun to wipe it, she gave Molly as disapproving look, before turning away from her and continuing with her own chores.

Later that afternoon and Jarvis finally had the chance to put the first part of his plan in place, smiling softly he ushered the two people he had been expecting into his pantry, carefully shutting the door behind them and making sure there was no sign of his beloved in the corridor.

"Alright Walter." Felix huffed flicking his long hair out of his face as he dramatically settled into the fireside chair. "What is so important you drag me away from my kitchen and swear us to secrecy?"

"Hear Hear!" Molly added, still unable to work out why the normally less than friendly Butler should want her to sit in on a meeting with his best friend, she just hoped it had nothing to do with either her bloody brother or certain guest that had only recently arrived.

Smiling uncomfortably Jarvis pulled out his desk chair indicating that Molly should sit and make herself comfortable, an act of courtesy that if possible only made her even more on edge, why was he being so nice to her of all people?

"I've asked you both here because I need to ask you for your help." Jarvis began awkwardly pacing up and down the room unable to look either of the now incredibly worried staff in the eye. "It's about Flora."

"Why what's wrong?" Felix demanded suddenly panicked. "Is there something the matter with the baby?"

"No nothing is wrong with the baby…" Walter began.

"Have you two had another fight?" Felix nagged shaking his head in frustration.

"No!" Walter snapped. "Would you just stop and listen!" He added immediately regretting his outburst when Felix sat back as if slapped. "I'm sorry Felix I didn't mean….Oh hang it!" He exclaimed whirling around and running his fingers through his hair before turning back to the now very confused pair.

"Mr Jarvis." Molly began tentatively. "Perhaps you should start again, from the beginning."

"Yes thank you Mrs Watson…Er Molly…I will. I've been talking to the Doctor and he has insisted that Flora needs to take more time off. I've tried talking to her about it but she just dismisses everything I say, as paranoia and my being over protective, she just isn't taking the risk seriously enough so that's why I have asked you here."

"How can we help?" Molly asked still unable to squash that nagging feeling more was going on here than met the eye.

"Well it's a two fold thing, you both work closely with her and so are in better position to stop her from overdoing things and…"

"And?..." Felix added. "Walter you know how stubborn Flora is, I've already banned her from my kitchen once but somehow she always knows the way to get around me, I'll try to be stronger but I don't see how I can be of much help to you…"

"I was hoping one of you would agree to talk to her, if someone else tells her the same things that I've been saying then perhaps somehow it might start to sink in…." Jarvis trailed off turning to look hopefully at Molly.

"You mean you want me to talk to her?" Molly huffed.

"Well she would take more notice if the advice came from a woman." Felix cut in eager to be rid of the task himself.

"Then what about Emily…"

"Flora tends to humour mother rather than take any notice." Jarvis admitted reluctantly. "And besides she has grown to trust and rely on your judgement so perhaps if you went to her asking to take on more responsibility then it wouldn't look so obviously like we were meddling!"

"I'm so glad that is settled!" Felix exclaimed smiling in relief at not having to be directly involved, he had known Flora for far too long not to realise this was quite some task before Molly Watson, getting Flora Ryan to ease up on her duties, well they'd see the second coming first.

"Indeed Felix! Perhaps you'd care to take afternoon tea with Flora Mrs Watson, better to get the ball rolling don't you think?" Jarvis replied jovially, everything was going just as he had hoped, who knows he might just be able to kill two birds with one stone after all.

"Yes well if you think it best." Molly muttered getting up slowly and heading towards the door her mind doing back flips as she tried to think of a way to phrase her request that would prevent Flora from simply biting her head off.

"Oh Mrs Watson one more thing…."

"Yes Mr Jarvis?"

"Don't mention this little chat to Flora, if she had any idea I was behind it she would stick her heels in like a mule!"

Huffing slightly Molly nodded, what sort of an idiot did that man take her for, of course she wouldn't say anything to Flora, but instead of replying in such a sarcastic vein Molly simply retorted. "Yes Mr Jarvis" Before turning and heading along the corridor to the housekeeper's office.

Grace had listened to Molly's soft footsteps, as she had disappeared along the corridor. Lizzie engaged! She breathed out deeply as she thought of her own difficult situation, it was only a few months ago when she thought herself to soon be in a similar state of affairs, those dreams could not be further away now. She'd been back for less than 3 days now and still had not caught sight of George. He had to be here, she would have known by now if he wasn't, gossip would have been passing around quicker than rats run. Determined to find out everything she was dying to know she flung down the teacloth and strode towards the door. She would go to the footmen's room and see if he was there…then if he wasn't she'd get a straight answer from one of them.

As she got closer to the footmen's room she began to hear voices. It didn't take her moment before she found out the source of the information. Johnny was in the footmen's room, his voice was low but it travelled down the corridor and she could hear every word.

"Mrs Corey seemed impressed when he arrived while you were away, but she had to send him away until Mr Jarvis returned. He's coming back today to meet Mr Jarvis," Johnny muttered.

"Had he been a footman before?" Will asked, curious to know what he was now going to be up against.

"I doubt it, but I'm guessing Charlotte told him a thing or two."

"Maybe I should contact my sister and get her a job here," Fred sniggered. "Taplows will be a whole big family soon."

"A house full of Adams'," Will chuckled.

"And you've got all the Corey's," Fred snorted. "We'll wait until Lady Rebecca's and Mrs Corey's children have grown up, then they can join both family's together."

"Well that is another story I got hold of this morning," Johnny smirks, causing them all to raise there eyebrows. "Apparently Mr Adams became a father of two boys last night."

"You are kidding!" Will chortles. "That really is priceless! All we need now is Fl- Mrs Corey" correcting himself quickly, "to have a little lass." All the footmen nod. "We've got it sussed haven't we lads?" Winking at them all.

"So Johnny what is this new footman called again?" Fred asks distractedly, as he returns to brushing at his wig.

"Charles Lewis," he informs them.

"Charles as in Charlie, or Charles as in 'Charles'?" Will questions, sticking up his nose towards the end, smiling as he received lots of laughter.

"'Charles' I think." The footmen all groan, "Well what were you expecting him being Charlotte's brother?" Those present pondered this for a moment, before the full realisation hit them, Charlotte's brother! Some stuck-up, Catholic fool! Will couldn't help smiling, imagine what fun they could have with him.

"What about…what about George?" Grace recognised Joe's voice, more caring and cautious than usual. Her breath caught in her throat, after what they had been saying about the new footman she knew she didn't want to hear it, but for some reason she still edged forward towards the door.

"It's all been very hush hush," Johnny began, his voice now lowered even more. "No one is all that sure to be honest, all we know is that Mrs Corey received a letter from London about 2 months back. We know it was about George because next day advertisements for a new footman went up."

"But surely she's told Jarvis or someone by now, word should be out, you know how this place is when it comes to gossip." Will's voice spoke up.

"Well there was a couple of days when there were a few whispers, but when Mrs Corey found out she announced that anyone caught spreading rumours would be sacked the moment Mr Jarvis returned. You should have seen her face, I've never seen her look so angry yet severe at the same time. She really meant her words."

"So that is why no one has said anything," Fred whispers, his eyes widening as the realisation struck him. "It must be really bad then."

Johnny nods, before continuing, "My guess is she's waiting to speak to Grace." Grace suddenly began to feel very faint and had to grasp onto a nearby wall for support. "He's not coming back that is for sure, whether he's been hung, locked up or is stuck in a slum somewhere, he's not returning to Taplows." Grace couldn't listen to anymore. She turned and sprinted as fast as she could down the corridor, she reached the top of the stairs and stood motionless. She suddenly realised she had no one to turn to, Lizzie was probably with Lady Rebecca at the moment, Charlotte had left. In the past if she'd never been able to find a shoulder to cry George had always been there. Standing by to support her when in need of comfort…but when she needed someone most he wasn't there.

The tears ran swiftly down her cheeks and she felt her knees begin to give way. Frank! She could go to Frank, he'd told her repeatedly over the last 6 months that he was there for her. Dismissing the thought he'd be seeing to Lord Julian she dashed down to his room. Not even knocking she dashed in, relieved to see Frank sat by the fire hiding away from the rest of the Taplows occupants.

"Grace?" He rose immediately as he saw her, feigning his most comforting voice.

"George isn't coming back," she just managed to croak out. Seeing her suddenly turn deathly pale he darted towards her, catching her as she collapsed helplessly into his arms.

"Oh darling, don't worry, it's going to be alright," he whispered soothingly into her hair, "I'm here, everything is going to fine." He rocked her softly, unable to hide to sly smile that flitted across his face. Time to put operation 'melt her heart' into action. He'd been a fool to think he could get the better of Flora, Jarvis, Adams and his lady friend…they all at least had a brain between the 4 of them, but this poor little soul was lost all alone…just as he had planned.

It wasn't much later that a now thankfully off duty Molly Watson snuck through the servants quarter's and into the main house unable to keep the hopeful skip out of her step and the smug smile from her face. She knew those two cowards had her let her face Flora thinking that she would fail just like all the others and that they would avoid another verbal bashing from the vicious tongue of the housekeeper but she had managed to succeed where even the infallible Mr Jarvis had failed. It had taken some doing, carefully laying the groundwork talking to Flora about how devastated Rebecca was for a good half an hour before she even dared to broach the subject and even she knew well enough to cadge her request in the right language:

"I was surprised the effect it had on Mr Jarvis though…Well meant I suppose I shouldn't have been that surprised I mean considering..." Molly had hedged a flush of embarrassment on her usually flawless complexion.

"Why…What happened?" Flora gasped almost choking on her tea.

"Oh he had to deal with undertakers, all the details for the funeral he accompanied them when they went to measure the baby and I've never seen a man turn so grey so quickly, I guess it just made him face his own demons…Not that anything will go wrong of course I didn't mean to imply….Oh Flora I'm sorry but I mean he does worry so much and"

"And if it could happen to a woman as young and healthy as Rebecca then…" Flora trailed off her own face turning slightly pink.

"It was an accident a tragic accident!" Molly cut in. "And if you take all the doctors advice there's no reason to worry! You are taking it aren't you?"

"Well yes…" Flora replied however Molly had noted her friend hadn't been able to look her in the eye.

"Flora?" Molly scolded.

"Molly!" Flora retorted jokily, unable to keep the slightly panicked tone from voice. "He has mentioned something…He thinks I should give up work, I mean I know that would be the ideal situation from his point of view but I mean most mothers are running around after other children and running their own houses and they seem to be just fine!" Flora added snapping defensively.

"Yes I know…" Molly replied consolingly. "But that doesn't mean you have to run yourself ragged now does after all that's what I'm here for perhaps if you left the more onerous details to me and took care of only the most important issues, like the early morning starts with the laundry maids I could do that and then you'd have not only more time to rest like the doctor suggests but also more time with Mr Jarvis..Walter… It's obvious he misses you whenever you're apart and you're going to have precious little time on your own once the little one arrives!"

"Well if you're sure, I suppose I needn't supervise the laundry maids or the sculleries myself then I wouldn't need to get up so early and it would be nice not to have to get so early in the morning…Honestly between Walter and your good self I am being thoroughly spoilt I doubt I am ever going to be able to do an honest days work ever again?" Flora had giggled playing with the new sparkling sapphire earrings that Molly had commented suited her rather well.

It thus with her mission accomplished that Molly just happened to pass by the Earl's study and noticed that one of the maids, probably that dratted Henrietta girl had left a brush leaning up against the wall, huffing as she shook her head mentally noting that she would have strict words with that little madam when she next saw her. So it was quite by chance that she overheard the tail end of the conversation between their lordship and a certain senior male member of staff.

"I'm telling you Jarvis it's just not on a woman in that condition walking about the place. What the hell will my guests think? It's not decent I tell you!"

"I understand Milord and I assure you My Wif..Mrs Corey has decided to delegate more of her duties to Mrs Watson and so I doubt she will be appearing above stairs."

"Well if you can assure me of that it's bad enough having one bloody female birthing in my house but at least she was an aristocrat….Dammit man this was never part of the agreement I know these things happen but I can count after all and it doesn't take a genius to work things out, I pay for a fulltime housekeeper and that is what I expect so if she doesn't offer her resignation within the next week or so then I will have no choice but to sack her, I take it you can deal with the situation she is your wife after all!"

"Yes Milord, at once Milord!" Jarvis replied and Molly heard the clop of his footsteps against the polished wood, then suddenly the door opened and a somewhat smug Jarvis came face to face with an irate Molly Watson.

"So Mr Jarvis Mrs Corey is going to resign any day now is she? Cause I think that is news to your wife!"

"Mrs Watson….Molly" Jarvis began abashed shutting the door carefully behind him. "It wasn't like it sounded!"

"Oh really?" The Scottish lady retorted whirling round on him in anger. "I have just spent the last hour or so talking to your wife, persuading her to ease up on her duties because you convinced me it was for her own good but now I find out it was more for your benefit than hers what sort of man…" Molly began but Jarvis suddenly cut her off with a glare grabbing her elbow and frogmarching her down the corridor before wrenching open a cupboard door and pushing the stunned under-housekeeper inside.

"How dare you manhandle me in such a manner?" Molly exclaimed backing away from the now fuming Butler.

"And how dare you address your superior in such a manner?" Jarvis hissed. "As for the situation between my wife and myself that is certainly none of your concern!"

"Oh really I believe you made it my business when you asked for my help, no in fact begged was more like it!" Molly snapped. "I can't believe Flora ever agreed to marry a man like you, so manipulative, well I can only believe she didn't realise what she was getting into!"

"My relationship with my wife is none of your concern…" Jarvis began but Molly cut him off.

"It is when you involve me, you used me to further your own ends!" Molly retorted. "Well I am not going to stand for it I tell you I'm going straight to Flora and tell her what I know and you can deal with the consequences!"

"Don't you dare!" Jarvis warned. "If you go within two feet of my wife with this information then I swear you'll be out on your ear by the end of the week!"

"Oh really and just how are you going to cope without a fulltime housekeeper as the earl so pointedly put it?"

"I'll find a new one, mother could cope for a little while!"

"Huff!" Molly snorted in amusement. "Emily is a wonderful woman but you can tell she has never spent any time in service and you know just as well as I do this house would be a shambles within the week and so you'd have no choice but to bring Flora back to duty!"

"Fine, perhaps you are more valuable than I'd like but what about the other members of your family?"

"What?" Molly gasped in shock.

"Well…" Jarvis began snidely. "They aren't as invaluable and heaven knows I have enough dirt on Andrew to have had him sacked five times over, is that what you really want?"

"You wouldn't he's your friend…"

"And Flora is my wife, which do you think I hold in higher regard?"

"I…" Molly began unable to quell the fear that had risen choking the words in her throat.

"Yes?" Jarvis taunted a knowing smile tugging on his lips as he realised he had her in a no win situation.

"Damn you." Molly growled pushing past him towards the store cupboard door. "I won't be a party to this any longer you can do your own dirty work from now on!" She added slamming the door open and striding out into the corridor the Butler trailing straight after her the surprised pair crashing into an even more astonished Flora Corey.

"Walter…Molly?" She hissed glancing from the Butler to her deputy and back to the closet they had suddenly stepped out of, together, and in some semblance of a hurry.

"Flora my dearest!" Jarvis gasped immediately taking his hand from Molly's arm and stepping over to his wife sliding his ark round her waist as far as he could. "We were looking for you?"

"In a closet?" Flora retorted sarcastically.

"No we were…"

"We were just inspecting the traps!" Molly cut in. "The Earl was complaining saying he was sure we had an infestation and Mr Jarvis was reminding me about the importance of checking the traps regularly…."

"Yes exactly I just didn't want to worry you dearest its nothing for you to be worrying about, Mrs Watson has agreed to deal with it….Now how about a nice little glass of brandy before we call it an early night?" Jarvis added suggestively blowing in Flora's ear as he manoeuvred her back to his office and away from the fuming Molly Watson who could do nothing but stand helpless as he escorted her deluded friend away from her.

"Oh don't be ridiculous Walter!" Flora giggled oblivious to her husband's deception. "You know I can't drink brandy honestly…" She added as they disappeared from view.

Sighing to herself Molly ran her fingers through her hair before turning and striding in the opposite direction her thoughts now far from her beloved Monty and the night they had planned and consumed with feelings of despondency and guilt. If she told Flora then both her and Andrews positions could be in jeapody but if she didn't would anyone really suffer? Even Flora would be better off in the end wouldn't she? She would get all the rest the doctor proscribed, the Earl would be happy, her and Andrew's jobs would be safe and Jarvis would get off her back! But even so she couldn't escape that nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, that grounding feeling that she had some how started the ball rolling on something that was far beyond her control and would have unknown consequences for all of them. Shaking it off Molly fixed a determined smile on her face and skirting in the shadows she resolved to put all thoughts of Walter and Flora Corey behind her and enjoy one of the few nights of happiness that had come her way in all those long months of exile.

After gently drawing her Ladyship's door to a close, Lizzie let out an exhaustive sigh, gripping the door knob tightly, supporting her weight as she wearily leaned forward to rest her forehead on the door, it had been a most trying day. She'd thought it best not to mention her argument with Mr Adams and his subsequent, overheard, revelation. She didn't want to trouble Rebecca any further than she already was, as she was sure he wouldn't tell her, and well, if he did, it would only have been his distorted version of their spat. Afterall, as far as Lizzie could see, their estrangement would have absolutely no bearing on the service she provided her mistress.

At this resolve, she hauled her heavy head back up, took her hand from where it lay, and consoling herself that she was very almost done for the day, only needing to extinguish her Ladyship's fire (not that it was really needed in this heat, but, duty called). As she made her way downstairs in order to get a pail of water which a certain new 'colleague' had forgotten to fetch her earlier, her thoughts turned to what her friend had said, or at least tried to earlier. She hadn't seen him all say, what with one thing or another.

As soon as she was done, she would try to locate him, he'd always got something to winge about, she didn't mind, it made her laugh, and right now she needed that to take her mind off her own day, amongst other things. She thought briefly of letting him in on the secret she had tried to conceal, but swiftly decided against this … she'd wait till the opportune moment, if there ever could be one, no, no, she wouldn't tell him just yet, she concluded with furrowed brow.

Less than a second later, she stopped dead on the grand staircase, her eyes widening, heart rate increasing at a speed of knots, suddenly realising, much to her horror, that the choice may already be out of her hands, it wasn't exactly a secret anymore, she'd told Grace! However, on regaining the ability to breathe, she was thankful that it was Grace, and noone else. She was sure that Grace wouldn't have told him, told anyone, after all … the only person she would tell was George, and he was … well, wherever he was, god bless, her prayers were with him.

It was obvious Grace's every thought was with him, it pained Lizzie to see the look of devastation on her dearest's face when he did not return with the others, a face that, apart from a few moments earlier that day, when she'd gotten quite excited about Lizzie's news, hadn't seen a smile since, she was missing him terribly. Pondering this, Lizzie's thoughts turned to her own sweetheart, her fiancé. Is that what love is? She questioned. When apart, feeling as if part of you is missing, your thoughts always with them, your every prayer wishing their safe return to your arms?

Of course she was thinking of Arlen, she could picture him as well as if he were there when she closed her eyes, after all those months, of course she'd miss the way he looked at her, their afternoon strolls by the Loch, the flowers he'd bring her out of a nearby garden, his strong arms … But, if Lizzie was truly honest, somewhat ashamedly honest, she was bearing the separation rather well … in comparison to Grace of course.

As she began to come out of her stupor, her left foot blindly searching for the next step as her vacant stare remained faceing straight forward, she was rather rudely awakened by the sound of the voice she reeeally didn't need to hear right now.

'Elizabeth!' Adams hissed, calling her name for the half dozenth time.

After blinking, she looked down to see the under-butler standing a few steps down from her, desperately trying to get her attention.

'Are you alright?' he continued.

'Quite alright' she assured him, snapping back to full consciousness 'But thank you for your concern' she continued, her tone laden with sarcasm, a strained grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

'What are you doing here?' he asked, perhaps a little too harshly, automatically scanning their surroundings for members of the household, but when he was half done, he caught sight of Lizzie's glaring eye. Quickly realising he was starting to put his foot in it once again, he conceded 'Never mind, eh?'

'Oh no, please, I wouldn't want to make a scene!' she scolded, finally resuming her course, storming passed him.

However, she couldn't get too far as he caught hold of her right arm, as he rushed down the stairs to stand before her. 'Please Lizzie, we need to talk!'

'I've nothing to say to you-'

'Och, don't be silly!'

'And I think you've said enough for one day don't you?' she carried on relentlessly.

For a moment they were locked in eachothers' glares, but before Lizzie knew what was going on, he snatched at the steel bucket in her hands with a 'Give that here'

'No!' she shouted back, furiously holding onto the handle, eventhough it hurt her fingers when someone wasn't tugging on the other end, literally cutting off the blood flow to the tips when it was full of water. Eventually, his superior strength forced her to give way, she let go quite quickly, as a result he stumbled backwards down a few steps, thankfully onto the marble floor at the bottom, had they been any higher up the staircase, and he'd probably have ended up rolling down it.

Brushing himself off, pulling down his waistcoat, he said with a hint of victory 'Thank you!'

Lizzie didn't reply to this, she simply stared at him, a small, yet visible huff showing him her sentiments on his childish nature. However, her face turned to thunder, as as if from no-where, Henrietta emerged from behind him.

'Ahh, could you take that up then?' he asked her, she was holding an identical, but half empty bucket, obviously he'd asked her to be there before hand. 'You know which room it is, don't you lassie?'

'Yes Mr Adams sir, I was attending her ladyship earlier sir'

As this was happening before her eyes, Lizzie could do nothing but stand back, aghast at his audacity, and her's come to think of it – she'd never 'attended' a Lady in her life the little…

The little whatever she was, was now making her way up the stairs. 'What you you think your doing?' Lizzie demanded of her as she reached her step.

'Im following orders Liz' she spoke sweetly, as if butter wouldn't melt.

'No your not, Lady Rebecca's staff are not under Taplows jurisdiction!' Lizzie countered, furious at the over-friendly way the little … had just referred to her.

'When they're under this roof, then, aye, they are!' Adams piped up.

'How dare you!' she seethed, leaving the new girl where she stood, deciding not to give her the time of day, instead sweeping down the stairs to face her Judas.

'Ive asked Miss Willis to finish off your duties-'

'I can see that much!'

'Don't be like that Lizzie, Ive asked her to finish off to give you a break, a time to talk'

'I'll start talking to myself before I have another conversation with you!' she scolded, pushing passed him as she headed to the servants entrance of the reception hall.

'What, you wont even let me tell you how sorry I am?' he pleaded, hot on her heels.

'Appologise for what exactly?' Lizzie enquired, swinging round as she flung open the door.

'Rebecca, she, she told me what happened and I should never have said what I said to you, forgive m-'

'Said too me, or _about_ me? she quizzed

'About you? Whose said anything about you! Me!' he gasped.

She was rapidly getting tired of his playing dumb act, so came straight out with it. 'To Mrs Watson!' she answered, before nipping through the door and slamming it shut behind her.

No sooner had it crashed against the frame, it was slung open again. 'Molly? What's she told ye?'

'She didn't tell me anything, you'd already done so yourself!'

'Look' he began, starting to get just a little irate at not knowing what the hell she was accusing him of. 'I don't know what your on about My Girl, but-'

'Your girl! My my you've changed your tune!' she fumed, her disdain reverberating off the walls as they ran down the narrow second floor staircase.

Adams stopped dead momentarily, as it dawned on him that she must have overheard. Suddenly all went quite, he could no longer hear her heels clopping against the wood, no longer see her little hand grasping the handrail. Slowly he continued downwards, his heart falling as she came into view, crouching on one of the steps.

'Why did you say that?' she asked when he was only a few feet away, not turning round.

'I … I don't know, I don't know why I do the things I do … I was very upset.'

'I can understand that but-'

'Rebecca, Little Hugo and you are all that matter to me, with the exception of Molly of course. When I see any of you hurting, when I cant do anything, it makes me, well … theres no excuse.' He admitted earnestly, hanging his head.

'But why did you say that, is it really what you think?' she whispered, the silent tears trickling down her cheeks.

'Och, child … I canne answer that for certain … I honestly, honestly don't know, but can you blame me? Look at ye, apart from a slight, and probably regrettable for you, physical resemblance, your nothing like me. Your sweet, your kind, smart, selfless, you're a natural with your brother … you'll make a wonderful wife one day.' He paused as she stirred, getting to her feet.

She sharply turned round to face him, to asses his countenance – did he know, had Rebecca told him? Her initial fears were laid rest when he continued, oblivious to the poignancy of his last remark, venturing forward to take her arm, to guide her down the remaining few steps. 'But despite all that, all I can say is that I love you as a daughter, regardless.' This raised a small smile, but he wasn't done yet, this next bit, he wasn't too sure she'd thank him for, but it had to be said. 'And as for your mother, she's obviously not the Bessie McDuff I thought I knew, I mean, she's done a grand job with you, and for you I thank her.'

They'd reached the first floor landing, where he would take a right to the Upper servants staircase, and she would take a left to towards the maids' corridor.

'So what you said…?' she started, looking up at him tearfully.

'What I said was wrong, utter lunacy, because I'm proud…' brushing a stray strand of hair which was stuck to her left cheek aside 'very proud, to call you my daughter.' At this, he pulled her into his arms, hers mirroring his without hesitation, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, rocking her gently, as he should of done many years ago.

After a few moments came a mumbled, 'Goodnight father.'

'Goodnight my Lizzie' he returned, placing a peck on the crown of her head, before the two parted.

As Lizzie walked down the corridor, she conceded that It was too late to call on Will at this hour, and as she was feeling much better now, thought it best to leave it be till the morning, if she was ever to see daylight again, she was quite forgetting what it looked like, but there was always the blistering heat to remind her the sun was still there.

As turned the corner, she was startled as an increasingly familiar voice rang out. 'Well, that was very cosy'

'What!' Lizzie demanded.

'Are you deaf as well as dumb now?' Hettie taunted. 'Tut tut, young woman fraternising with a man old enough to be her father'

'I'd thank you to keep your dirty little insinuations to yourself, and for your-'

'What, the truth hurts does it? Lord knows what it will do to your Lady, very much doubt if she'd app-'

'What do you mean!' Lizzie cut her off, surely she didn't know about her father and Lady Rebecca.

'I mean, that after all your poor Lady has been through these last couple of days, I don't know what it would do to her to loose her scally, but then there are others who could step into the fold if needs be! Did I say 'if?', I meant 'when'!'

'You little!-' Lizzie seethed.

'Oh, I suppose you could thank me for doing your duties whilst you sneak off to have a 'making up' session with lover boy. Very nice Lady, Lady Rebecca, not short of a bob or too by the looks of it, nice little earner for you there, must be what keeps him interested!'

Lizzie couldn't hold back any further, she had the most overwhelming urge to wipe the smirk off of the evil witch's face, but that would have been all too easy, and she certainly wasn't worth it. 'The TRUTH is, he IS my father you dizzy tart!'

After momentarily looking most put out at this, an expression which gave Lizzie much satisfaction, she countered 'Oh Im sure he is! And Im sure you'r ladyship will see it that way too!'

'You stay away from her!' Lizzie warned, menacingly closing the gap between them.

'Ohhh, steady on there sister, you'll bust a corset, any others you'd like to lay claim to while your at it!'

'W-' Lizzie quite involuntarily blurted out, her blood boiling as she saw Hettie's face light up in anticipation of a name, but none were forthcoming. Lizzie took a second to ask herself, did I say that out loud, or just think it? There wasn't time to debate the answer, as she recovered with a less than civil 'Welcome to Taplows, Miss…? Sorry, Ive clean forgotten?'

'Oh don't worry dear, comes with age! Miss Willis, Hettie Willis'.

'Well Henrietta, which am I? A moment ago I was young, not im old…?'

When Hettie wasn't quick enough with a retort, Lizzie took full advantage 'Tut tut, your indecisiveness will not do, but when you're a lady's maid, you'll discover that – Goodnight.' She finished on a high, striding down the corridor leaving the new girl in her wake, howeve, she wasn't quite done yet. Swinging round she retraced her steps. 'Im sorry.' She gushed.

Hettie look quite shocked at this, a retreat she certainly hadn't been expected, and that was good, because it wasn't what she was about to receive. 'Did I say 'when'? How clumsy of me, I meant to say 'if'!'

Minutes later as she tucked herself into bed, glancing over to Grace who appeared to be sleeping soundly, she smiled to herself, perhaps she was more like her father than both of them had realised.

Grace may have appeared asleep but she was far from it. After waiting a good few minutes she turned over to check Lizzie had drifted into a deep slumber. When convinced she slid her covers down to revealed herself as still fully dressed. Tiptoeing across the cold concrete floor she made her way out of the door. She'd found herself unable to sleep that night…the fore of her mind still focussed on the words Mrs Corey had said to her less than 3 hours ago.

She'd known what was coming the moment she'd asked her to enter her office. She'd made it obvious from the very beginning that what was approaching wasn't good news; her asking Grace to sit down, fussing about little things like whether she wished for a cup of tea and asking her if she'd had a nice time in India.

"I got news a few months back," she began, having built up enough courage midst the mindless small talk. "From London," she added, waiting momentarily for a reaction from Grace. When none came she continued further, "Regarding George…" she trailed off once more. Still Grace didn't say anything, she just wished her to just come out with it so she could leave the warm office as quickly as possible.

All Flora wanted was a small response, just a little sign that she should continue. She had been hoping that Grace would bombarded her with questions instead of her having to come straight out with it. "Things…didn't go as well in London as we had hoped…"

"Mrs Corey, I already know all this, I know you've hired a new footman and George isn't coming back, so could you please get to the point and tell me where on God's green earth he is…or not as the case may be!" She suddenly shouted up at the older woman. Grace regretted her harsh words the moment they had exited her lips. She hadn't wanted to sound rude, but she was far too exhausted of this mindless chit chat. Flora was completely stunned, here she was trying to be polite and considerate and she'd just been shouted down by her inferior.

Awkwardly Flora pulled herself up from her chair and began to pace up and down her office in an effort to remove her cramp. Well if Grace wanted it straight then that is how she'd receive the news, she had no patience or energy left with this girl. "Lots of previously buried evidence was brought against George-"

"Did he hang or not!" Grace cut across her, hissing the words between her teeth.

"No," The housekeeper answered flatly, noticing the unmistakable smile creep across her face. "However he's been given a life sentence imprisonment…" She added determinately, though her voice softening as she saw Grace's face fall. "And when he's released there is no saying what will happen…I doubt very much it'll be all over; he upset many people and not everyone was happy with his sentence. He'll most certainly not be given a new position is service, regardless of his character from Mr Jarvis." Grace felt her head began to spin as she tried to take in this new information. Her whole body began to tremble and she had to dig her nails sharply into her hand to stop herself simply screaming the whole place done in her confusion and anger. "I'm very sorry Grace," Flora whispered softly, patting her hand comfortingly.

"We'd been arguing…" she murmurs, more to herself than the concerned housekeeper. "Why did it have to end like that?" She asks Flora, looking up at her imploringly, the tears rolling down her pale cheeks.

"The Lord works in mysterious way, my dear," She replies, with the most comforting piece of help she could offer. "No one can ever tell what's wrong the corner…" she continues, slipping a handkerchief into her shaking grip. "That's why we have to make sure we make every minute count."

"I just wish I could have spoken to him one last time, let him know that I wasn't mad at him anymore…that I love him more than anyone or anything else in the world," she croaks, collapsing into her tight embrace.

"There is no point regretting or wishing for things you could have had but don't…you'll just end up wasting away…you have to carry on and be strong, put it firmly behind you, see even the little one agrees with me," she giggles softly, as Grace jolts back in surprise, after feeling a little elbow through it's mother. Even this brought a smile to Grace's face.

"Well there is no way I can argue against both you and Mr Jarvis," she mutters, smiling ever so slightly, "fighting a losing battle."

Grace pushed the heavy door open and stepped out onto roof. Mrs Watson had appeared moments after that and she had left without another word. Breathing out gently, Grace smiled as she felt a small breeze calm her slightly. This was one of her favourite places at Taplows, if she even needed a moment to calm herself or simply get away from the hectic hustle and bustle of the house she'd come up here. George used to come up here with her too, there was so much to see, it was beautiful.

She sat down on one of the small walls that bordered off the huge drop down the side and propped herself up with one of the small posts along the side. George used to sit here, she'd sit between his legs and lean back into him. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she closed her eyes to imagine him begin their with her.

He grasped her tightly, bringing it up to his mouth he kissed each of her knuckles gently, before lacing his fingers softly through hers. "I'm sure he'll be fine," he whispered in her ear softly.

"He saved my life George, if he doesn't make it…" she trails off unable to continue further. She was still shaken from earlier that evening.

"He will," he assured her firmly. "Mr Adams is with him, he's made of strong stuff I'm sure of that." Grace let out a little sob. She'd begun to like Tom, and even though she had George with her again now she still valued his friendship.

"I was so scared George," she murmured into his sleeve. "If it hadn't been for Tom, they'd have shot me for sure." The tears rolled down her cheeks, George didn't know what to say to make her feel better. He'd never been that keen on Tom, if he hadn't been for him she wouldn't have needed saving, he couldn't say that to Grace though. "What about Mr Jarvis? What if he's not alright? Is someone with him?" She suddenly asked worried.

"You never stop thinking about people do you?" He chuckles soothingly. "He's fine, Mrs Ryan's with him…for a change." He adds smiling, nudging her slightly for the laughter he wanted. She couldn't help letting out the little giggle.

"Is it really true what you, Will and Liz heard?"

"Well…most of it…you know how Will likes to exaggerate, but most of it is true," She giggles slightly, staring up at the clear sky. "You couldn't find a couple so well matched for each other don't you think Grace?" She nods sleepily, unable to keep her eyes open any longer. "Made for each other Grace…Grace?" He whispered softly to her, when he received no reply. "Grace?" He said once more, poking her arm gently.

"Grace? Grace?"

"Oh leave me alone George," she murmured, opening her eyes once more, expecting to see George wrapped around her, but as she looked she saw herself alone on the small wall…then it all came flooding back.

"Grace?" Turning she saw her waker and smiled slightly at him, through her sleepy eyes. "I've been looking everywhere for you," Frank whispered gently. "I…I heard about George."

"Does everyone know now?" She asks him sadly.

"Oh no," he assures her. "I just heard Mrs Corey telling Mr Jarvis that she'd told you, an hour or so ago." Reaching out he took her hand, squeezing it gently he added. "My dear Uncle Wally," she smiled faintly through her tears, he was so sweet. "I knew that would make you smile," he chuckles, leaning forward to kiss her forehead gently.

"You know I'm here for you Grace." He reassured her. "And I always will be."

"You are such a sweetheart Frank Keneally and I love you for it." Grace whispered. It was as though someone had suddenly flicked a switch somewhere inside her. She forgot about all her sorrow. George was suddenly just a name to her. Leaning towards Frank, she ran a soft hand down the side of his face. "Kiss me Frank," she mumbled breathlessly. "And promise me you'll never stop." He nodded slightly, pulling her close and kissing her gently. Grace forgot the feeling of emptiness, Frank was there for her like George wasn't. She needed him, without him she was sure she'd drown in her own sorrow. "I can't do this without you," she muttered in between in a passionate kiss.

"I'm here for you," he repeated. Kissing across her cheek, before planting the most tender kisses down her neck. Something happened next that he wasn't expecting. He felt one of Grace's tears trickle off her chin and splash onto his cheek. It was then he felt a pang of something…something clicked inside him and he felt slightly…what was that feeling…guilt? He had loved her once upon a time, those were the days when he was prepared to do anything for her. Could he really carry out this cruel plan of his? Oh pull yourself together man! You can't back out now, not when you've come so far. No, he was determined to get her back at whatever cost.

Finally Grace's tears stopped falling. She'd never forget George, ever! But like Mrs Corey had said 'we have to make sure we make every minute count…..you have to carry on and be strong…' With Frank's help she could do that, she vowed she would.


	3. Episode 3

The next morning was an early start for one particular footman, but it was not duty which called but his own, rather more personal mission. He trotted through the servants hall and cut a chunk of bread from a loaf left on the table the night before, marvelling at how eerily quiet it was so early in the morning – no Wilf and his drinking songs, no Fred cartwheeling through the hallway and no maids bustling and gossiping.

There was, however, one maid who was already up with the sculleries to begin soaking some of the laundry which seemed to be accumulating quickly with little attention being given to it. Hettie certainly wasn't up by choice, far from it, but as one of the newest maids with laundry firmly in her job description she drew the short straw on the early shift. Mrs Watson had given her strict instructions to ask her any questions she may have rather than bothering Mrs Corey, who wasn't to be disturbed until at least half past eight every morning from now on, and certainly not by any old laundry maid. But, typically, Hettie did have a question for Mrs Watson as the silly sour bitch hadn't told her where the keys were kept so she could get in there. With a sly smile Hettie noted the earliness of the hour, even darling Molly wouldn't be stirring just yet, so why not wake her up?

As for Joe James, he had a similar idea but certainly not for the same reasons. There was a certain lady he hadn't had chance to talk to since his return from India, but this was to be expected considering the previous day's goings on. Joe had made himself rather scarce where Molly was concerned for the past couple of days, she had been run off her feet much of the time anyway so it hadn't been difficult, but when he did catch glimpse of her she looked particularly harassed so thought it best not to approach her for fear of having his head bitten right off.

He had thought about her so much while he was away, every day in fact, and during his free time – of which there was much of it – he had taken to writing poetry about her after discovering an exotic poetry book, translated into English, at a market in Delhi. Some of the poems in the book were a little risqué, he noted, but that far from put him off, the opposite in fact. They weren't _rude_ but the exploration of feminine beauty, although maybe a little more 'in-depth' than more sensitive souls might have enjoyed, but still Joe found a certain connection with the poetry which helped him understand and express his confused feelings towards Mrs Watson.

He and Fred had spoken very little while abroad, well socially anyway, except when Fred discovered the poetry book under Joe's bed, along with his notebook. He had laughed out loud on reading Joe's attempts at copying the slightly erotic sentiments of some of the Indian poetry but Joe had taken no notice. He didn't care for Fred's frankly immature attitude and wondered if his one-time friend and colleague would ever experience real love; a love so strong he would do anything for her, even sacrifice his own happiness for hers. Fred and Will had joked he was being 'pretentious', although they hadn't actually used what Joe considered to be such a complex word for them and had simply said he had become 'up himself' since his declared love.

Until now Joe had been able to push any thoughts about Lord Montgomery Hamilton-Hussey right to the back of his mind, surely his affair with Molly would have ended by now, they must hardly be able to see each other and besides aristos like him were bound to have other women in other houses. But Lord Hamilton-Hussey's untimely arrival had got Joe thinking again; wondering if it was indeed really over with Molly. He hadn't told a soul about his encounter with her in the Orangery not long after her arrival, how she had kissed him thinking he was Monty and thus inadvertently revealing her little secret. Joe had meant what he said, about helping her if she needed it, he wanted them to remain friends as that would at least allow him to enjoy her company, which was far more entertaining and grown-up than spending drinking evenings with bloody Fred and Will.

Quietly, Joe tip-toed through the female quarters feeling remarkably out of place. If Mrs Corey caught him he would be in more trouble than he cared to imagine, but he had heard that she was under strict instructions from Mr Jarvis and Molly to stay in bed and not get out of it until a cup of tea had been brought to her in the form of permission. He knew Molly's room was towards the end of the corridor, but as he approached he heard her door handle begin to turn and the door creak open. His heart leapt into his mouth and his breath caught in his throat, his brain screaming at him to bottle it and run, but he compromised by dashing around the corner and backing up against the wall. He didn't know what had possessed him to visit her now, perhaps he felt he would be laughed at if Fred caught him talking to her, but as she was obviously up now anyway it would take just a few steps and they would be eye to eye.

Joe peered around the corner, his body frozen to the spot, but what met his eye made his blood run so cold he could feel a shiver run up his spine. A _man_ had appeared from Molly's room and was standing in the doorway, Joe could only see his back half but from the way he was holding his frame he could tell who it was, it was unmistakable. He appeared to be only half dressed, by an aristocrat's standards anyway, but he was at least wearing his trousers even if his shirt was untucked scruffily about the waist and his braces were hanging down by his thighs. The Lord was talking but it was muffled and Joe couldn't hear a word of it, but the instantly recognisable Scottish lilt which responded was a little more clear so he could make out a few words, but nothing much. Joe gulped hard when he watched in horror as a pair of bare, slender arms slid themselves over Lord Montgomery's shoulders and pulled him back into the room slightly, their muffled talking ceasing as more carnal matters interrupted their flow of conversation.

In the mixed flow of Joe's turmoiled thoughts he remembered one of the poems he had written which was a reflection on how he pictured Molly to be, under all of those layers. For a moment he was too upset to move, here was a rich cad taking advantage of a woman who had not so many months ago lost her husband! If it wasn't for circumstances Joe felt he would certainly have put Lord Loverboy in his place, but as the tears of jealousy began to well up in his eyes he couldn't help but move to try to get a better view, just to confirm it was indeed Molly, of course.

Moments later, his suspicions were confirmed when his teary gaze fell upon a slightly obscured view of Molly Watson as she and Lord Montague broke apart their risky, lingering kiss in the doorway, completely oblivious to their intruder. Strangely Joe felt his stomach churn in an odd feeling of delight as he took in every detail of Molly he could see, from her loosely laced white corset down to her first layer of petticoats, her thick brown hair draped over her shoulders. It excited him to think that nobody except Lord Montague was meant to see her in such a state of undress, if only that damn petticoat hadn't been there, but it didn't take him much thought to consider that it certainly hadn't been about her person until very recently. Joe's mind began to turn from his initial interest to self-pity and hurt, maybe Fred was right she was never going to be interested in him no matter how much he tried to make himself as sophisticated as his competition. The footman turned to leave in despondency, but nearly shouted out in shock to see a maid grinning up at him, her eyebrows raised questioningly.

"'ere what are you up to?" Hettie asked a little too loudly, lurching forward to nose around the corner, but Joe grabbed her arm and pulled her back before she could catch a glimpse down the corridor. "Get off me, will you!"

"Shut up!" Joe hissed, his eyes wide in terror. "What the hell d'you think you're doing!"

"I'm allowed to walk down the corridor, Joe, it's hardly a crime!" Hettie replied, now in a firm whisper. "C'mon, let me look, I don't like secrets!"

That's just her trouble, Joe thought maliciously, but he had no choice but to let her look for fear of creating even more noise and giving his game away. He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth as Hettie leaned past him and exhaled the faintest whiff of a snigger before pulling back and leaning against the wall with her hand firmly over her mouth as she giggled silently.

"Wonder where he's just been, dirty posh sod!" She whispered through her laughter, hardly noticing the stern expression on Joe's face. His brow furrowed in confusion and he looked back to see Lord Montague hurrying down the corridor, but aware of his own conspicuousness he glanced over his shoulder. Joe lunged backwards as soon as he saw Monty's head turning and he could feel the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead as the panic rose in his chest. Thank God Hettie didn't see where Hamilton-Hussey had just come from, but had he just made the mistake of being spotted?

"You know, don't you?" Hettie asked, her eyes narrowing and her lips pursing in piqued interest. "C'mon, tell me, tell me!"

Joe shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. This girl was so bloody immature, he thought with a sniff, no doubt she would end up seeing more than she should of Fred Matkin at some point soon. "How would I know? I don't care for gossip unlike you maids." He lied unconvincingly, avoiding all contact with Hettie's suspicious eyes.

"You _must_ know, you've been spying. Tell me Joseph, pretty please?" Hettie smiled flirtatiously, brushing up against him and twirling a lock of hair around her finger. With a wink she ran her finger down his chest and raked her eyes over him, but Joe felt sick rather than anything else and pulled away from her.

"N…no, I don't know, I said….."

Hettie's body language suddenly changed and she placed her hands on her hips, cocking her head to one side as her sweet smile turned sour. "I thought as bloody much!" She snorted bitterly. "It was _her_ wasn't it, Mrs sweet-as-pie Watson, I know because Fred's told me all about you and your obsession with her, you're protecting her aren't you!"

"What do you care!" Joe retorted, instantly regretting not denying it further, but he was one step ahead of her and before she could dash off to tell anyone who would listen he cornered her and glared at her intimidatingly. "Don't you dare tell a soul, you're new here, people won't thank you for gossiping about Mrs Watson, she's got a good reputation and nobody will believe you anyway."

"Me? Tell anyone?" Hettie feigned offence, placing her hand on her chest and fluttering her eyelids. "Why would I do such a terrible thing? Don't you worry your little head, Joseph James, your – and Mrs Watson's – secrets are safe as houses with _me_ , I'm not one for gossip." She smiled softly again, running a finger down his cheek, but Joe could see a nasty glint in her eye which made him feel uncomfortable. "But she had better be careful." Hettie whispered almost threateningly. "She's probably got _evidence_ in her room, and if that fell into the wrong hands, well…."

"What d'you mean, evidence?" Joe asked, puzzled. His patience with Hettie was wearing so thin and was so stretched if she pushed him much further it would snap in two.

Hettie smirked, glancing in the direction of Molly's now firmly shut door. "Oh, you know, men woo women don't they? Buy them things? When they want something in return, of course, and it seems our Lord in question most certainly does, every night he's here I'll wager. He's probably brought her flowers and the like, expensive presents, remind her how rich he is, and she'll have no way of explaining how she got them, especially if they were to accidentally find their way to right under Mr Jarvis' nose."

"Don't you even _think_ of it!" Joe exploded, but Hettie pushed past him, the broadest smile on her face since she arrived at Taplows. "What's in it for you!"

"Hmm." Hettie spun round and frowned in mock thought, tapping her lips with her finger, but then her eyes brightened in fake realisation. "Oh, you mean, would I….? Joseph James, I am ashamed of you! I would never….land a fellow woman in trouble!"

The look on Joe's face made Hettie want to laugh out loud. How she was desperate to get her own back on _her_ for being such a sour cow to her, it would be the biggest laugh she'd had since turning up at this dump of a place, she could do with some fun for a change.

"W…where are you going now?" Joe asked in alarm as she headed towards Molly's room.

"I need to ask her were the keys are to the laundry." Hettie replied smugly, but the sly grin on her face fell rapidly away when Joe announced, with a hint of victory in his voice, "Oh I know where they're kept, why didn't you just ask? I'll take you to them myself." He was damned if he was going to let the horrendous Henrietta Willis get a good look inside Mrs Watson's room.

Hettie stopped dead with her back to the footman and fumed silently for a moment, but she forced a smile back onto her face turned, her hands clasped together in mock enthusiasm. "Ooh goody, do take me to it." She snorted sarcastically, but Joe smiled as warmly as he could and indicated for the maid to follow him safely away from any mischief she may wish to cause – for now, anyway.

An hour or so later after having survived first the Earl's verbal ear-bashing over the sloppy state of the household and then his wife's subsequent floods of tears over the rather harsh dressing down the Earl had directed at her in particular, the butler decided that now was the right time to deliver the last of his packages from India.

So picking up her ladyship's breakfast tray much to the amusement of the footmen he made his way up the grand staircase and along to the east wing, he paused and knocked politely outside Lady Rebecca's room waiting for her permission to enter. As who knows what she might doing, not that he had any worries about interrupting any of her old nocturnal habits but she might be feeding young lord Hugo or dressing or doing any number of those idle female flippancies that seemed to keep them amused but that he as a man was far happier not knowing about! It also hadn't escaped his memory that this afternoon would be an especially trying experience for her ladyship, little Archie's funeral, but who knows perhaps his little gift might be able to take her mind off the dreaded event, even a few minutes distraction would be enough.

Suddenly the door was opened by a harassed looking Lizzie who on spotting the butler gave him a polite smile and opened the door wide to usher him inside before leaving herself a large pile of laundry clutched in her arms.

"Lady Rebecca?" Jarvis called out discretely as he could catch no sight of the lady in question.

"Over here Mr Jarvis!" Rebecca's melodic voice rang out, although to Jarvis's trained ear it did sound some what fatigued and sadder than he remembered. Following her voice he walked across the room and finally spotted her ladyship relaxing on a chaise by the large windows her son cradled in her arms as he continued to grisle.

"He's determined to be trying today, nothing we do will appease him!" Rebecca muttered more to herself than to the awkward looking servant standing a respectful distance away.

"Nether the less he's a very handsome little chap My Lady." Jarvis replied, looking at the child properly for the first time and noting that his wife had indeed been right in her assessment, he just hoped that the child managed to grow into that Adams nose sooner rather than later.

"Would you take him for a minute." Rebecca asked. "I could really do with drinking that whilst it's hot and he just screams his head off if he is put down."

"Of course My Lady." Jarvis replied automatically as if she had merely asked him to open the window rather than hold a screaming infant so he laid the small package down on the table and without even the barest hint of panic accepted the child making sure to support the head and hold him securely and close but not too tight just as his mother had repeatedly drilled into him. However despite his substantive theoretical knowledge this was the first time he had ever actually held a small child, hell any child, and he was surprised at how heavy and solid he was despite being so tiny.

However he wasn't the only one scrutinising the situation as the child seemed to instinctively realise the change of hands and stopped grisling to open his eyes long enough to glare up at the Butler, and even though at such a stage Jarvis knew he shouldn't be able to make out much more than a few inches in front of his face he could have sworn the child looked him right in the eye and was working him out.

"How very strange..." Rebecca muttered.

"What is?" Jarvis asked forgetting to add the usual Milady on the end in his haste.

"That is the first time he has stopped all morning, and Andrew is the only one who has been able to get him to go down without a fuss, you two must have a gift or something… Flora is going to be a very lucky mother having you on hand to help her when things get too difficult!" Rebecca added and for a moment Jarvis could have sworn he detected a hint of jealousy in her tone.

"I consider myself the lucky one Milady." Jarvis replied politely but unable to keep the defensive tone completely from his voice as he spoke about his wife.

"I'm sure you do Mr Jarvis." She added softly but without even a hint of her feelings as after her little outburst it was if an iron gate had come crashing down on her emotions placing them once more under lock and key. "Was there anything else?" She added distantly.

"Yes I managed to find a copy of that book you asked me to find."

"I did what book?" Rebecca began distractedly, picking up the parcel and unwrapping it delicately before suddenly pausing having not even turned the first page.

"Oh yes…." She began and Jarvis could barely suppress the sigh of relief as the present had the desired effect and her eyes lit up properly for the first time in ages.

"This is it Mr Jarvis, tell me did you get the chance to read it?" She asked innocently enough but Jarvis could have sworn there was some joke he hadn't been made a party too as there was something about her mouth that suggested the desire to laugh.

"No Milady it was your book and I would never presume…"

"Oh but it's not for me, it's for your lady wife, a belated birthday gift of sorts." Rebecca retorted once more carefully wrapping the book in the paper and knotting the ribbon tightly around it.

"Would you be so kind as to pass it along for me, but could you do me a favour and make it an anonymous present…Say for example you picked it up in a Bazaar and after thumbing through it thought it was something she might enjoy, much like that lovely picture book you brought her back from Rome wasn't it?"

"Are you sure Milday? It is your gift…."

"I am positive Mr Jarvis, if it comes from me then Flora will get all embarrassed because she didn't get me a birthday gift and you wouldn't want her getting upset now would you?" Rebecca asked angelically fluttering those long lashes in a way that would make most men swoon at her feet.

"Well if you're adamant Lady Rebecca."

"I am Mr Jarvis!" She added determinedly handing the butler the book and watching as he expertly slid it into his pocket without even waking the babe in his arms before heading back towards the door.

"Oh Mr Jarvis you've forgotten something, or to the point forgotten to leave something?" Rebecca called out mischievously from the chaise standing up slowly and closing the distance between them before holding out her arms for her now sleeping son, who didn't even stir as his mother took him back and placed him in his bassinette.

"Don't worry you'll have one of your own soon enough….Oh and make sure you tell Flora to pay special attention to the etching on page thirty eight I think it is, well it is in my copy, I think it's something she might find enlightening, a truly magnificent feat of human ingenuity!"

"I will make a point of it Milady!" Jarvis replied embarrassed, before bowing politely and leaving the room, and so missing the look of wicked delight that emerged on her face the moment he had left and her muttered comment of 'I truly hope you do Mr Jarvis'.

A few hours later and after a hard morning's work Molly Watson returned to her room to restyle her hair, or at least that was her excuse. It was such a shame to let the beautiful flowers Monty had brought her just sit in her room without anyone appreciating them so she felt she owed it to them to nip back occasionally for a quick admire and to breathe in their scent before going back to her many chores. Now that Flora had scaled down on her duties quite dramatically since yesterday she found herself far more in demand, and although she knew she would quite enjoy practically running the household at first, apart from the admin work which she felt she should leave to Flora to make her own life easier, she already felt exhausted and wondered how on earth Flora had been able up to now to carry on as she had been doing. She was probably just used to it, Molly thought with a frown as she unlocked her door and entered, but even still she wondered whether Flora had some secret to keeping her own head when all around were losing theirs.

Molly was annoyed with herself for not being able to pay more attention to her poor brother, who kept moping around the servants quarters and barking at any unfortunate member of staff who came within yards of him. She loved him dearly but she really wished he wouldn't pick on William Forest the way he did, if Rebecca saw him behaving like that she would have a word or two to say, but she concluded that the dear lady would have other things on her mind today of all days. With a sigh Molly walked over to the window where the large bunch of flowers sat proudly in a vase on her dresser. She sniffed their delicate petals, casting her eye out of the window and up at the clear blue summer sky, the few wisps of fluffy white cloud moving slowly westwards giving the only visible indication that the world was turning as it should.

Molly closed her eyes and muttered a small prayer under her breath. She wasn't normally a very religious woman, her father had managed to put her off much active church-going for life, but that didn't mean she didn't believe and somehow this sort of moment called for a word or two in God' spiritual ear. She could see in her mind's eye Lady Rebecca grieving over Master Archie's tiny coffin, her father stood rigid and stern next to her, his face as stony and uncompromising as his soul.

The baby would be being buried in the Sturges Bourne vault right about now, in an extremely private ceremony attended by Rebecca, Lord Farquarson and Monty, with only Lady Caroline representing the Earl's family, and Molly could see in Andrew's eyes how devastated he was for once again not being able to be there for the woman he loved. Of course he understood why, he hadn't expected to be there, but it didn't hurt any less. Molly was grateful to Mr Jarvis for letting her brother return to his room for the duration of the half an hour ceremony to 'contemplate his thoughts', as the butler had put it. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all, Molly had mused to herself at the time, he didn't show outward compassion all that much but when he did it was obviously genuine, maybe she was starting to see what Flora saw in him.

Molly stared down at the flowers again and smiled softly. She would make sure Andrew was able to see Archie's grave in a day or two, where they could say their own goodbyes, but her mind drifted to the blissful night she had spent with Monty. She felt guilty thinking about it under the current tragic circumstances, but it was the first time she had been able to have pure, indulgent fun in months. The nearest she had come to letting her hair down recently was while the men were in India. She and Flora had decided on the spur of the moment to dash off, mid-blanket darning, into Tappleton to buy what Mr Jarvis always called 'needless female fripperies' and have two cups of tea and a scone, and although she had had fun on her 'girlie' afternoon out with her friend it hardly compared to the excitement Monty brought to her life just by being under the same roof as her.

He was her little secret, nobody – apart from Joseph, which was unfortunate – knew about him and she was very happy to keep it that way. She always worried for Andrew, she felt too many people knew about him and Lady Rebecca and one day the risk they took would catch up with them, but on the other hand her own secret was far more dangerous. Monty was a married man with hopes of Parliament and she had a husband still alive and relatively well (as far as she knew) in their marital home in Glasgow, certainly not six feet under like everyone at Taplows believed.

Suddenly she was jolted out of her thoughts as her door swung open with a creak, and she spun around in shock nearly knocking the vase off the table. Molly let out a sharp sigh when she saw who it was, backing up against the table in a feeble attempt to lessen the conspicuousness of the bright yellow roses behind her.

"Can I help you, Miss Willis?" She demanded in a rather strained voice as her cheeks flushed crimson. "Can't you wait a moment, I'll be back in Mrs Corey's office in a minute…"

Hettie smiled sweetly, watching her carefully as she leant back, placing her hands behind her on the table so her elbows obscured the flowers further. Molly hadn't even considered that perhaps if she wasn't making such a futile effort to hide an innocent-looking bunch of roses and lilies Hettie would have thought nothing of them, but the inquisitive eyebrow the maid cocked as she eyed a rogue snowberry peeping over the under-housekeeper's shoulder caused Molly to panic further.

"It's Lord Hugo," Hettie began quite innocently, and for a moment Molly forgot the significance of her flowers and her eyes widened in worry, but the maid carried on before she could ask the obvious question. "He won't stop crying, he probably needs changing or something."

Molly's rigid posture relaxed in relief, her concerned expression changing quickly to one of mild annoyance. "You should find Lizzie McDuff for that, she's acting nanny for now, I've got far too much to do." But then her eyes trailed towards the bed, where she noted with horror that she had left out a beautifully hand-decorated trinket box with its lid open, a Mother of Pearl necklace lying neatly inside it. Hettie followed her gaze and a smile flittered across her lips as Molly coughed nervously and scooped up the items.

"I can't find her, Grace said she may have gone to the vault, she thought Lady Rebecca may need her." Hettie replied with a hint of satisfaction in her voice, her inner most thoughts revolving around the idea that if those expensive pearls went missing, who on earth could Mrs Watson complain to without arousing suspicion even if she had a suspect in mind?

"Well do I look like the mothering type to you!" Molly fumed, marching towards Hettie so the girl was forced to retreat towards the door. Hettie was actually rather taken aback by how angry Mrs Watson seemed, even if Hettie had seen some things she shouldn't Molly appeared to be visibly shaking. "I don't know what to do with a baby any more than any other childless woman, you might as well ask a man! Actually on second thoughts _never_ ask a man….what are you gawping at girl, you shouldn't even be in my room, go on shoo, I'll come along and see to Lord Hugo in a moment."

Yes because you're very good at giving Lords a good 'seeing to', Hettie thought in ecstasy as she took another long stare at the trinket box in Molly's grasp, but Molly's expression softened and she smiled.

"Mrs Corey, I'm just on my way now." She said brightly, Hettie turning around to see Flora standing behind her just beyond the door in the corridor.

"I just heard shouting." Flora said rather flatly, her hands rubbing her lower back.

She looked mildly puzzled but Hettie simply smiled in a sickly sweet manner at her as Molly felt her skin begin to prickle. Molly opened her mouth to speak, to say anything at all to stall Hettie from possibly saying something inappropriate, but the young maid was too quick and she was left floundering.

"Oh, Mrs Corey, I was about to come to look for you, Mrs Watson says I'm strictly not to bother you with anything at all but Lord Hugo is crying and Lizzie's not around, and Mrs Watson says she doesn't know what to do with a baby, never having had any herself." Hettie exclaimed naively, feigning a look of innocent worry, but Flora didn't seem quite so sure of this and looked at Molly questioningly.

"Well I did say that I would be along in a moment, Mrs Corey, there's no need for Miss Willis here to bother you." Molly countered in her defence, still cradling the trinket box. How could the little scheming madam blatantly exaggerate the instruction she had given her then go on to make a point of repeating back a line obviously made in haste in front of Mrs Corey – a _pregnant_ Mrs Corey – making Molly feel small and inadequate?

"Yes well His Lordship is having a mid-morning nap, Mrs Watson, and he is already complaining about Lord Hugo's lung capacity so one of you best get up there quickly." Flora said a little sharply, without giving any indication whether she had registered Hettie's unhelpful comment about her being kept in the dark on matters involving the running of her own household. She was staring quite obviously at the vase of flowers, so hard in fact that it was impossible for Molly not to notice as a strangely uneasy silence descended in the room. Hettie suppressed a gleeful smile and very slowly moved out of the door, waiting for her cue to make mischief. She wanted the satisfaction of knowing that when Mrs Corey – or indeed Mr Jarvis – finally realised who exactly the poor respectable widow Molly Watson was bedding, she could claim the credit for nudging their thoughts firmly in the right direction.

"They're beautiful." Flora stated, indicating to the flowers as a half-hearted smile flittered across her lips.

"Yes, they are." Molly replied nervously, desperately trying to think up a reason for her possession of them. "I, er, got them from….."

"Mrs Watson must have a secret admirer, don't you think so, Mrs Corey?" Hettie interrupted angelically, earning her a panicky glare from Molly. What the hell is she up to now, Molly thought in horror, there's no way she could know about Monty…..

"A secret admirer?" Flora asked a little dryly, raising her eyebrows. "Things don't tend to be 'secret' around here long if that is the case!"

"No, they're from…er…Andrew, he can be a very thoughtful brother from time-to-time, Hettie haven't you got duties to attend to? The laundry baskets won't empty themselves." Molly said in a stern but oddly stressed tone, coughing as her neck flushed a patchy, red rash.

"Are you alright, Mrs Watson?" Flora asked, her expression softening in concern as she stepped into the room and noticed the beautiful box in Molly's grasp. "If you wish I can go and see Lord Hugo, obviously it will take a bit of getting used to, the workload around here I mean, not the baby! Although I appreciate if you're not sure what to do, I mean when baby Corey arrives I will find I'm a little unsure myself, although I'm hoping Emily will……"

"No, I can do it, it's fine." Molly interjected firmly, throwing Flora off her verbal stride and causing her to recoil slightly in surprise at the flat rejection of help from her deputy. "Babies can't be that difficult, women have been having them since Eve, Mrs Corey, I'm sure I can work out one end of a child from the other!"

Hettie shot Flora a knowing 'told you she's taking over' glance, the real reason behind Molly's defensiveness completely going over her and Flora's heads, but Hettie realised she had to bring the conversation back round to the main matter of her attention, and quickly.

"Maybe you're having a reaction to the flowers, Mrs Watson." Hettie said in a helpful tone. "When I see Mr Adams I'll be sure to mention it, I've seen that sort of rash before….."

"No, don't!" Molly yelled desperately as Flora stared at her. "I mean….well….it's not an allergic reaction to the flowers I'm sure, no need to bother Mr Adams, it's…I'm just a bit hot."

"But Mr Adams does seem very gentlemanly." Hettie suddenly piped up rather clumsily. "And may I say, Mrs Watson, that the trinket box you have there is beautiful, it must have cost him a pretty penny in India."

"It's actually from Africa." Molly said quickly, but then instantly realised her sudden mistake. That damn girl had lulled her into a false sense of security with her compliment, how could she have fallen for it so easily? Everyone knew that Monty had only recently returned from Africa, maybe she could quickly lie that Andrew had picked it up on the way home…..

"I thought you said Mr Adams had left all your presents on the boat." Flora wondered, her face clouding with a shroud of suspicion. Molly gaped for a moment, glancing from Hettie's satisfied smile to Flora's narrowed eyes.

"He did…most of them….he found this one in his trunk." She stammered unconvincingly.

"So it's not from your secret admirer then? I'm surprised he could afford such an item on an under-butler's wage." Hettie asked keeping all smugness from her tone, but she knew she was taking a big risk by taking on Mrs Watson right in front of the housekeeper.

"I do not have a secret admirer, Miss Willis!" Molly fumed, waving her out of the door furiously. "And if I did it would be of no concern of yours, now kindly go and see Lord Hugo, I will be along momentarily! And if you see Mr Jarvis on your way tell him I will see him promptly at 11!"

Hettie nodded, leaving hurriedly, smug in the knowledge that she seemed to have begun sewing the seeds of doubt in Mrs Corey's mind already, if her expression was anything to go by, but she knew she still had a long way to go yet and she was going to have an awful lot of fun getting there.

"You have a meeting with Mr Jarvis at 11?" Flora asked Molly quite casually as she glanced around the room, as if looking for something, or at the very least taking in her surroundings and noting them carefully.

"Yes, just a business meeting." Molly smiled, placing the box by the vase of flowers and relieved that little madam had finally taken her poison elsewhere.

"Well I should think it would be business." Flora replied quite sharply, Molly failing to detect any teasing hint to her tone but hardly thinking much of it. "I mean what else would you wish to talk about – or not talk about – as the case may be?"

Molly untied her hair and turned away from Flora so she could brush it while looking in the mirror, "Indeed, my dear, but one thing I'll credit your husband with is that he certainly knows his own mind and the efficiency at which he gets on with the task in hand is most agreeable. Sometimes I find him so efficient that he's done it even before I've noticed he's started!" She sighed, completely missing Flora's subtle point as the housekeeper's expression darkened further. If Molly Watson was playing her for some kind of fool then she would regret it, especially with those kind of lewd comments.

"Can I sit in on your meeting?" Flora asked, keeping the malice out of her voice. "I mean, it's only a business meeting after all…."

"I…I don't know, it would be up to your husband." Molly replied truthfully as she tied up her hair and replaced her cap with the skill of a practiced hand. "But you're meant to be resting, Flora, it may be best if you leave it to us for now."

Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you, getting your hands on my husband and my job, killing two large birds with one stone! Flora thought, her jaw setting in bottled fury as she hobbled back towards the door, but she decided it best not to say any more, she didn't wish Molly to know she suspected anything, not yet, what if she was just overreacting? That's what Molly would probably think, she would tell Walter and Flora would find herself even more out in the cold as they continued their little 'arrangement', for want of a better, more appropriate word.

"Now, Flora dear, you go and have a sit down while I see to Lord Hugo." Molly smiled, ushering the housekeeper out of the room. "You just leave everything – including Walter – to me."

However despite his best intentions the Butler was unable find his lady wife until much later in the day and when finally he caught sight of her he was somewhat perturbed to find her ensconced in her sitting room with his mother fussing over her like some demented queen bee.

"No Flora dear promise me you'll stay off your feet this afternoon, Molly can deal with the grocer and I'll go fetch you a lovely glass of milk and slice of Felix's lemon cake…"

"I don't suppose you could make that two slices?" Walter called out from the doorway smiling as the two women glanced up in surprise Flora trying to get up from her seat and welcome him in but Emily pushed her back down before striding over to the door.

"You don't need feeding up anymore!" Emily hissed pushing past him and into the hallway and so missing the furious expression on her son's face as he self-consciously tugged on his waistcoat before wandering across to his wife.

"Can you believe her?" He exclaimed leaning down to place a tender kiss on Flora's forehead. "What on earth can she mean, perhaps we need to get Dr Evans to check her eyesight the next time he visits…"

"Walter!" Flora teased. "She has a point you know how on earth are you going to compete in the games this year with a paunch like that?" She added playfully poking his stomach.

"Oh and you really think you are in a position to say anything!" Walter retorted running his hand over her large belly.

"Oi Mister I have an excuse and it's not like I have to do anything but sit on the sidelines and cheer you on! You on the other hand have a certain standard to uphold we don't want those winning medals to go to any other house now do we." She added continuing to run her fingers teasingly over his stomach as he did his best to suck it in. "Don't think I hadn't noticed since you've been back from India that you weren't the sprightly thing you were before you went out!"

"It's hardly my fault!" Walter snapped grabbing her tickling fingers and raising them to his lips, kissing each one reverently. "It's not like I've had the same level of exercise that I was used to, and what else was I supposed to do whilst I was away its not like I could sample any other local delicacy without you slapping me with a divorce!"

"I don't know you could have taken up belly dancing with a figure like that!" Flora added cheekily pulling her hands free from his and holding up a warning finger as her glowering husband leant down intending to pull her into his arms and show her then and there that he wasn't the kind of man that would take up belly dancing.

"Well if you're going to be like that then I might decide you don't deserve that last present…" Walter trailed off reaching into his pocket and pulling out a certain neatly wrapped package a delicate yellow rose tucked under the red ribbon.

"More presents?" Flora giggled before her face froze slightly a flicker of something flittering across her normally serene face as she caught sight of the familiar looking flower, a look that if her husband had caught it might have given him cause for concern over her next question. "It must have taken you most of your free time buying all these presents I mean mine alone must have taken hours of looking did you get the chance to bring any other's back for anyone else?"

"Oh a few, nothing much just little trinkets, there was this lovely little box but that's not important go on open it…This is your last one mind so don't go getting excited its nothing much just a book I picked up in a local bizarre and thought you might enjoy it apparently the etchings are especially good!" He added handing it over to the unusually quiet and pensive Flora.

"Apparently?" Flora queried intrigued as she teased open the paper and ran her fingers across the strange foreign letters.

"It was a recommendation from a friend. I had completely forgotten all about it and then this morning I found it in the bottom of my trunk so you might as well have it now!" He added walking over to the mantelpiece and regulating the mantle clock to match his pocket watch and so missing the look of shock followed by amusement on his wife's face.

"So you didn't even look through it?" She asked in an almost hurt tone of voice.

"Oh well I scanned it of course!" Walter hurriedly retorted turning round and smiling sheepish at his wife.

"Really so which was your favourite picture?"

"Oh well it's a contest between page 78 and 38." He expounded confidently watching as his amused wife innocently flicked between the two pages.

"Oh yes I see what you mean!" She replied giggling softly turning the book around until she could get the right angle. "Most intriguing…Tell me Walter did you get to look at it from the right angle."

"There's a right angle?" The Butler retorted confused as he crossed the room, however before he could prise the book from his wife's hands the door to the sitting room was suddenly flung open and in marched his mother accompanied by a rather harangued looking Andrew Adams who had only just returned to duty after the funeral.

"Look Mr Adams if I've told you once I've told you a thousand times…" Emily ranted as the red faced under-butler sat the tea tray down on the table with a deliberate clatter. "I mean its not decent a man such as yourself hanging around a ladies room, if we need a man above stairs then well we'll call for one!"

"Yes Mrs Corey!" Andrew exclaimed meeting Flora's eye and watching as the housekeeper had to stifle a giggle at his harassed and despondent expression, his misery only seeming to lift when he caught sight of a very familiar looking tome clutched in the housekeeper's hot little hands. "Catching up on your reading Mrs Corey?" He added winking conspiratorially and sending Flora bright red in embarrassment. "Borrow it from Lady Rebecca did we?"

"No! I brought it back from India." Jarvis exclaimed quickly, a bit too quickly for Flora's liking and suddenly the pieces began to fall into place.

"Oh your idea was it sir?" Adams teased. "Well I can understand your reasons I suppose!"

"Yes THANK YOU Mr Adams!" Flora hissed taking the book and shoving it under a nearby cushion but rescuing the rose and pinning it delicately on her dress. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"Aye I suppose I could find somewhere else to be….Might I say that flower suits you, ladies should always wear flowers I always think, I know Lady Rebecca is very fond of them." He added a somewhat pleading expression on his face that immediately tugged at the housekeeper's heartstrings.

"Well I'm sure his lordship wouldn't object to you taking some cuttings from the gardener up to Lady Rebecca to brighten her room!" Flora conceded her eyes narrowing as Emily began to protest but one sharp look from Flora cut her off before she could stick her oar in. "I should think you and Mr Samuels are well enough acquainted by now…" Flora probed unable to keep the flowers in Molly's room out of her mind. "I just hope his lordship will have some roses left by the end of the day." She added pointedly watching as both men shifted around guilty, confusing her greatly.

"Aye an excellent idea Mrs Ry…Corey, Thank you" Adams called out backing towards the door and avoiding the now huffing Emily who was muttering under her breath about no one listening to her. "Oh and do pay special attention to page 38 quite a favourite of mine!"

"Yes THANK YOU MR ADAMS!" Flora added her usually serene face now beetroot red.

"What's so special about page 38 anyway…" Jarvis muttered reaching down and picking up the hidden book despite his wife's non-verbal protest and opened it at the right page.

However to his credit there wasn't the explosion that both Flora or Andrew were expecting, instead he went suddenly very very quiet the hand that held the book shaking ever so slightly as he slowly turned the page round till he got the angle Flora had talked about, one eyebrow cocking slowly. "Fascinating." He whispered softly snapping it shut and slipping it into his jacket pocket.

"Mr Adams when you visit her Ladyship pass on my condolences as well as my thanks will you?"

"Aye sir!" Adams retorted unable to keep the smirk from his face as he slipped out the door.

"A good book?" Emily asked sweetly.

"Nothing of any particular interest Mother!" Jarvis gasped pulling at his collar as the temperature in the room seemed to escalate rapidly so he quickly accepted the tea he was offered drinking it far too quickly and scolding his tongue in the process.

"Oh Walter see you'll never learn!" Emily rebuked getting to her feet and heading out to fetch him a glass of water and so leaving the couple alone for a few moments.

"You could have told me!" Jarvis hissed in his wife's ear.

"Oh where's the fun in that?" Flora giggled naughtily pulling the book out of her husband's pocket and wantonly turning the pages. "So tell me love what is your favourite page?" She added innocently.

Growling slightly Jarvis pulled it out of her hand and shoved it firmly into his desk drawer locking it safely away just as his mother returned. Gratefully accepting the water she offered he waited until she returned to her own tea and cake before surreptitiously leaning down and whispering teasingly in Flora's ear. "I'll scrutinise it later and get back to you my love and then who knows perhaps we can re-enact it at our leisure?"

Sniggering into her glass of milk Flora didn't reply instead she simply caught his eye and held it lovingly for a few minutes unable to restrain the flicker of excitement that shot up her spine as she caught sight of the lustful glint in his eye. What on earth had she been thinking, there was nothing going on between him and Molly Watson. "We'll see!" She muttered before turning her attention back to the excellent lemon cake in front of her, reminding that the next time she saw Rebecca to pass on her own personal thanks, and not to give those nagging doubts any further thought.

After another particularly difficult day, Lizzie McDuff let out a rather large sigh as she sunk into Lady Rebecca's fireside armchair, arching her back against the upright, running her hands down its dark green velvour arms, closing her eyes, hoping, just hoping for five minutes peace.

She rested herself safe in the knowledge that both of her charges were sleeping soundly, having given (against her better judgement, but on doctors orders) Lady Rebecca a mild opium capsule in the hope of allowing her troubled mistress some much needed recuperation, after she had lain awake most of the night contemplating the day ahead.

As for little Hugo, he was tired out after the ordeal Hettie must have put him through in her absence.

Lizzie had been initially reluctant to leave the infant, even when she was assured that Molly would be taking care of him, but after a heartfelt pleading from her father that surely there should be one member of their family present, she agreed to be that one. She knew he wished it could have been him, but under the circumstances … well, it was something he was unfortunately getting used to by now. He'd said his goodbyes the previous night when Lizzie had waited until Lord Farquarson had left his mournful daughter alone (at her ladyship's request) in the nursery with her son, before sending word to her father. Lizzie too left them to their own devices, after all this was a very private moment, it was the last time they would see their son, so giving him one last lingering look as she closed the door, she slipped out into the corridor to say her own little prayer.

That morning she'd kept her presence at the funeral very low key, stifling her own emotion, standing very still at the back of the church, tears silently trickling down her cheeks as she watched Rebecca's outpour of grief as the ceremony drew to a close, and it was time to say the final goodbye. As Rebecca staggered back up the aisle, following the little white coffin carried by the two alter boys, she gripped her fathers arm, so tightly that on occasion, when she felt herself slipping, on renewing her grasp, Lizzie was able to see the old man wincing as her nails dug in.

When the small procession reached Lizzie, she felt her knees go weak, staring through tear-blurred eyes from the Rebecca, to the tiny little box, and back again. On catching her ladyship's eye, Lizzie was quite taken aback when Rebecca suddenly pulled away from her father, a move that quite clearly shocked him, to take Lizzie's trembling hands in hers.

Both breathed in deeply, both squeezing each others hands, as if in a bid to draw strength. On looking up into her eyes, Lizzie was utterly dismayed to see that the exterior expressed only a fraction of what was brewing within, she had never seen such sadness, such distress in a woman's eyes. Walking back towards the house, all she could think was this was not how it was supposed to be, no mother should ever have to outlive their child, it just wasn't meant to be.

Lizzie wasn't quite so sure how anything should be anymore. That morning she'd lied to Grace on receiving her first letter at Taplows. As per usual Johnny had been dishing them out to all and sundry, the lazy little tyke to bone-idle to deliver each one by hand himself. Consequently, Grace was left to pass on the envelope, no doubt immediately jumping to the right conclusion on seeing the post mark. Lizzie had told her it wasn't from who she thought it was, that it was from Mary McGlochlyn, one of the maids she had become quite close to whilst up at Lochberne House.

Of course she could tell Grace didn't believe a word of it, Lizzie had never mentioned a Mary before, but for some unknown reason, decided to give her friend the benefit of the doubt as she scurried off to stoke Lady Mary's fire – it was hot enough to bake a cake outside, but the batty old coot still maintained there was a 'devilish chill' about the place. However, Lizzie wasn't entirely off the hook, as she'd caught sight of her friend on her way up (supposedly, before her father's intervention) to attend Lord Hugo, Grace calling out to her that later she'd expect a full report on the gossip from up North.

Lizzie wasn't sure of the reason she'd, without even thinking, given another person's name as the author of the letter. The first answer that sprung to mind was Grace's current situation. Indeed, she had seemed brighter than the previous day, which was quite strange considering that Mrs Corey had confirmed her next-to-worst fear that George had been imprisoned, but Lizzie resolved that it must have been the fact that now she at least knew what had happened, that she was no longer wracking her brains as to his fate.

Then there was the other reason, one she had quite successfully pushed to the very back of her mind, and there it resided … until about an hour ago, remaining at the forefront since. On returning from the chapel, leaving the Farquasons to attend the burial, Lizzie was mortified to find Hettie bloody Willis cooing over her brother and not her aunt. She wasn't about to give the brazen little madam the satisfaction of seeing her rattled, simply taking a superior tone in dismissing her, requesting Mrs Watson to replace her. However, in reply she was informed, quite enthusiastically, that 'dear Mrs W' was 'probably a little tied up at the moment.'

Secretly she was furious with her aunt, or her father (as much as she could have been with him today), which ever it had been who'd left the poor little mite at her mercy, but didn't let her feelings be known on Molly's arrival, as she'd probably, just like everyone else (well, Grace anyway) not have a clue what she was on about where dearest Hettie was concerned. Molly had stayed until Rebecca arrived, immediately sweeping over to where Lord Hugo lay, awaiting his mother's return. She'd nursed him for good half an hour before finally admitting that she needed a lie down, that much, had been obvious to her company.

Whether it was the sedative or her own exhaustion, Rebecca drifted off as soon as her head hit the pillow. Not long after, Molly returned to her duties as she'd had word that once again Mrs Corey was more than pitching in with the jam making. Lizzie was left holding the child, who soon followed his mother's lead. She didn't put him down straight away, as she'd learned from experience that if he was placed in his crib, he'd instantly detect the loss of body warmth, and begin to grizzle.

So, she stood at the window, overlooking the rear of the house, gently rocking the babe in her arms. It wasn't long before she saw a familiar face come out to meet his master. The Earl had chosen to take a ride out that morning (no doubt his pitiful excuse for missing the funeral), now Will had gone out to meet him. After his lordship had dismounted the horse (notably with quite some difficulty, they'd all remarked how the old walrus face had obviously been quite taken with Indian cuisine to get into that state), Will took the reins and followed him back up the path.

It was on turning round to approach the house that he spotted her looking down on him. On first sight he gave her a little wave, which wasn't reciprocated, instead Lizzie giving him a courteous nod before gently indicating to the bundle she held. The Earl was quite clearly barking orders at him (none of which Lizzie could actually hear), orders which were quite obviously not well received, as Will, forever the joker gathered the reins, making them into a loop - into a noose as Lizzie discovered - as he cocked his head to the side, pretending to hang himself.

While this amused her, she couldn't stop herself from bursting into laughter as he continued, using the riding crop as a makeshift whip, not for the horse, but whilst the Earl's back was turned, proceeding, rather animatedly, to lash the thing dangerously close to his lordship's backside. Perilously close on the final occasion, at which the mater swung round, asking him what the hell he thought he was playing at.

Will wasn't the only one to jump out of his skin at that point, Lizzie held her breath, thankfully not for too long, as quite miraculously, Will retorted insistently 'There was a wasp my lord'.

'Yes well, in this bloody weather…' the pompous old prig continued as he disappeared out of sight.

Just as he was about to follow, Will looked back up at her, rolling his eyes and giving her a charismatic, yet charmingly boyish smile.

It was here in the armchair, half an hour later, on reopening her eyes, finding herself still giggling at Will's shenanigans, that it suddenly struck her, that peace and serenity may not be all they're cracked up to be, that leaving this place she had come to call home, these people she had grown to love, wasn't going to be as clear cut as it may, for one life-altering moment have seemed.

It was therefore on a much sombre note that the servants gathered that evening for the main meal, but other than the obvious pall of sadness at the day's events there was also an undercurrent of tension in the air which to the more observant seemed to intensify around certain people. The weather it appeared had also taken its cue, and the intense summer heat had boiled over into the tell tale cracks of thunder and lightening accompanied by a much needed downpour. However to the outsider it was obvious that whilst outside the pressure had finally been released, inside it was still gradually building and all that was needed was a well placed spark to set the whole powder keg alight.

It wouldn't have taken a mind reader to ascertain who was going out of their way to avoid who. At the lower servants table the usual cliques had been split asunder. Joe and Fred still weren't speaking so whilst the latter sat down the far end of the table raucously giggling with Will, that new bit of skirt Hettie and a somewhat confused Grace, Joe sat the other side of the morose under butler shooting disapproving looks down the table whenever the smutty laughter became to obvious. Adams on the other hand didn't seem to be paying them the slightest bit of attention, whereas normally he'd either be shouting them down or laughing at the blue jokes himself, tonight he was content to simply stare into his bowl of Mr Simpkins stew, as if divining the future in it's murky depths, whilst a worried Lizzie fluttered around him like a butterfly scolding him gently when he wasn't eating enough and all the while doing her best to avoid both Grace and Will's questioning glances.

It was at this point when it seemed the tension could get no higher that the hallway door opened and in staggered a very wet and very cross young man his spindly arms bowing under the intense weight of all the cases he was carrying. Finally caving in he threw them down on the stone floor, the resounding crash waking the under-butler from his self imposed trance and Adams practically jumped out of his seat in shock causing the already nervous Lizzie to drop the jug she had been carrying spilling the last of the water all over her only mourning dress.

"Who are you…What in bleeding Jesus do you think..?" Adams began bellowing only stopping in surprise when the young man in front of him started back as if slapped and immediately crossed himself at Adams blasphemy. "Oh bloody hell not another one!" Adams added finally realising who the little whipper snapper was. "Charlie Lewis?" He asked sarcastically.

"Charles Lewis!" The young man corrected in a somewhat clipped nasal tone as he brushed the remaining water from his previously neatly pressed suit and swiped at his still immaculate white blonde hair, lifting his chin and squaring his shoulders before bowing politely but stiffly in Adams direction an act that immediately had the other footmen sniggering into their sleeves.

"Why are you all wet laddie?" Adams asked confused. "Got lost and took a little dip in the pond did we?"

"No Sir but you might have noticed it is raining?" Charles replied politely but unable to keep the annoyed tone from his voice completely.

"Aye it is but you only had to get from the carriage…"

"I walked sir!" Charles added his eyes narrowing in irritation at the need to explain everything. "From my sister's in Tappleton, the Taplows cart that was due to pick me up this afternoon never arrived on time so I had no choice but to!"

"Frederick?" Adams growled turning his gaze on the now squirming footman. "I may have been occupied today but I am sure I heard Mr Jarvis instructing you to go into Tappleton?"

"I did, but I was running late and …well I just forgot…Then by the time I'd gotten there he'd gone see…" The other footman hedged.

"Running late?" Adams queried. "Tell me did Mr Jarvis instruct you to make any other little stop offs that would have caused you to be late? Or should we check if a certain young lady of ill repute now has a few more Taplows six-pences in her purse than she had this morning?"

"I…." Fred began looking between the amused Mr Adams to the silently fuming Charles Lewis.

"Will you never learn?" Adams muttered shaking his head in an effort to hide smile. "Charles my boy please sit down…someone give this boy an extra serving whilst I go tell Mr Jarvis you're here."

"You left me to walk five miles in the pouring rain so you could go visit your whore?" Charles hissed after Adams had left, his handsome steel grey eyes narrowing in anger.

"Look Mate I'm sorry I mean it but it's like no harm done, you're here now aren't you? Let's just call it an initiation of sorts for the new footmen, earning your stripes…"

"Yeah come on Charlie mate sit down and have some grog." Will offered good naturedly trying his best to smile at the new addition to their team. "Ignore Fred he's a prat at the best of times…If you want you can give him a bit of a hiding later but…"

"I wouldn't lower myself! And it's Charles!" He retorted squaring up his strong jaw and glaring down at the other lads before striding pompously to sit as far from them as possible, taking Lizzie's vacant seat opposite Joe who offered him his hand politely a gesture which a hesitant Charles accepted a few moments later.

"Oh just great another one!" Fred hissed nodding towards the two other footmen who where now chatting politely.

"Yeah it was bad enough with Joe going all straight-laced our own Mr Pompous but now we have Mr Pretentious as well, 'I wouldn't lower myself' who the hell does he think he is? The Archbishop of bloody Canterbury?" Will added sniggering at his own joke into his beer.

"I don't know he is rather gorgeous…" Hettie cut in biting her lip playfully as she tried to get the new footman's attention but failing miserably.

"He's no better looking than any of us!" Will retorted a hurt expression on his handsome face. "Don't you think Grace?"

"Depends on your type I suppose but Hettie has a point he has a classical sort of look, nice eyes, strong jawline..."

"Oh and we're just a couple of good looking scrag-ends?" Will retorted.

"Oh Will but we all love you!" Hettie cooed fluttering her eyelashes at the first footmen and leaning forward to pat his hand reassuringly which the panicking footman quickly withdrew but not before he had caught the disapproving glare from a certain lady's maid who had just returned and was now chatting amiably to both Joseph and Charles.

"Grace you don't think Liz likes him do you?" Will whispered to the still room maid causing her to look up in surprise.

"Urghhhh…I doubt it Will, I think she has her sights set somewhere else." Grace replied cryptically before glancing down at her plate in embarrassment and so missing the footman's eyes light up as he misinterpreted her meaning.

"Well we'll have to show him the pecking order round here won't we lads?" Fred muttered leaning back in his chair his eyes narrowing maliciously as he watched the new footman settling in. "Only fair after all." He added under his breath as a devious plot began to form in his mind, who knows by the time he was done not only would they have taught a certain Charlie Lewis his place but they might have been able to remind one Joseph James which side his bread was buttered as well!

"Mr Adams, are you going to keep staring out of that window all day! We have enough statues around here without you adding to the collection!"

Adams spun round as his mind jumped from their jumbled thoughts and coughed as a harassed-looking butler thrust a decanter of port into his gloved hands, gave him the once-over with a hint of pity in his eyes then turned sharply and marched off calling over his shoulder 'The port, Mr Adams, as quick as you like, the Earl's waiting in the drawing room!"

"Sir!" Adams responded hurriedly, following Jarvis out of the dining room.

"And I need you to show round the new lad at some point later if you can spare the time, give him a bit of an initiation." Jarvis stopped as Adams caught up with him, a small cynical smile flittering across his lips. "And I don't mean _your_ kind of initiation, Mr Adams, just the usual dos and don'ts. He's come from a good house, even if the butler there doesn't know what his staff's doing most of the time, but if he works as hard as his sister he'll be giving our Mr Forest a run for his money within months."

"Aye, sir."

Adams watched as Jarvis trotted through the hallway, as he went scooping up small bits of dust only a trained eye could see before straightening a painting. As the under-butler's gaze fell upon the port in his hands he resisted the urge for a quick swig and made his way to the drawing room, where the Earl and Lord Farquarson were chatting about the news that Lord Fiffington-Piffles' trial was to begin in London in a few weeks. Lord Hamilton-Hussey, slouched in an armchair, lit a cigar and took a long drag on it, his expression fixed into a vacant frown and hardly looking particularly interested in anything either man had to say.

"And about bloody time." The Earl sniffed as he eyed Adams on his entry. "I'm parched over here man, what took you?"

"I'm very sorry, sir." Adams mumbled, crossing to the drinks cabinet. Monty puffed on his cigar and stared quizzically at him but Adams failed to notice as the conversation continued and the drinks were poured.

"I've been summoned to London, to give evidence. Dashed inconvenient." The Earl sighed as Monty (of the canine variety) yapped around his ankles. Oh fantastic, Adams thought as he placed the three ports onto a silver tray, more upheaval and another journey to London, he'd have to make sure he got out of that little jaunt.

Farquarson smiled wryly and chortled as he accepted his drink without so much as a cursory nod of thanks. "Well Algie if it gets the blighter behind bars where he belongs then it'll be worth being there just to see the look on the fellow's face!"

"Quite right, Cecil." Monty agreed, smiling and muttering his thanks to Adams, still wearing that same curious frown as the under-butler stepped back and waited on the Earl's instruction. Why he couldn't just leave the decanter so they could top up their own drinks as required he would never know, but as Rebecca's father was there he thought it may be in his interest to overhear any passing comment the old Lord might make. He didn't expect, however, to become aware of his plans for Rebecca's future in such stark terms as he was about to hear.

"How's my darling Francesca, Monty?" Farquarson demanded, stirring Monty from his intense gaze as he stared out of the window and across the grounds. The day was glorious, he was desperate to go outside, work out, possibly have a run to limber up his muscles, but these two silly old duffers wouldn't go near the front door without moaning about the heat. He wondered how on earth Algernon survived India when a bit of British summer irritated the hell out of him alone.

"Oh she's fine, always asking after her father. She sends her love." Monty replied with little enthusiasm, tapping his cigar into an ashtray.

"Probably about ready to drop now is she? You only have to look at her and she's ballooning and I'm not just referring to all the scoff you let her eat!" Farquarson laughed to himself, but if everyone thought Monty's souring expression was to do with Farquarson's crude use of the English language they were mistaken. If only he knew what his precious daughter was like, all the men she slept with, Monty thought to himself. Over in the corner, the servant was thinking exactly the same thing.

The Earl gulped noisily at his alcohol and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Nasty business, all this with Rebecca. And considering she's not got a husband any longer. You can't let her have her own way you know Cecil, if she were my Caroline she'd know who was in charge!"

Adams wanted to laugh out loud - _him_ in charge of Lady Caroline! She had him twisted around her little finger, he would do anything for her, he'd help her bump off that useless husband of hers if he knew it would make her happy.

Farquarson grunted and climbed to his feet. At 6ft 2in he had a large presence, a loud voice and even louder cough which would often start up at around midnight and keep his poor valet on his toes until the small hours. "Yes well I've been thinking about that and I've been talking to my solicitor as you know. Rebecca may have a handsome dower, more than I would have thought considering Hugo's brief marriage to her, but as he did not have time to alter any jointure it is of course I who has financial control until the child comes of age.

Hugo was a wealthy man but there are other men – of a higher status – who I am sure would not find her a burden, in the monetary sense of course, if I can make her see sense. She's young, she won't want to stay the grieving widow forever once she realises that it would be in her best interest to remarry, for both her future and that of my grandson."

The Earl nodded in agreement but Monty sat perfectly still, apart from raising his hand to puff on his rapidly diminishing cigar. He glanced at Adams from the corner of his eye then back again as his father-in-law continued to speak in the plainest of terms about the daughter he said he wished the best for.

"This is nothing to do what I want, you understand." Farquarson boomed, his eyebrows shooting up as Lord Julian swaggered into the room and squinted at the mildly shocked faces. Julian snatched the decanter from Adams' shaking grip, poured himself a large one then roughly shoved it back at him before collapsing in a chair by the window, but Farquarson continued nevertheless. "Your party would be an excellent opportunity for her to, well, make an appearance. I don't mean actively look for another suitor but there will be a number of gentlemen who I am sure have always had designs on my daughter and will be beating down the door to come to one of your excellent parties, Algie. I know she isn't the most desirable of ladies considering her recently acquired status but she is still of child-bearing age and has proved herself in that department, apart from the unfortunate hiccup which we can now put behind us. I have heard word that Rufus Gannon has spoken of her highly, maybe he can be persuaded from his bachelorhood? I'm sure I could bring about a socially respectable – if a little premature – end to her mourning….?"

Suddenly Monty interrupted Farquarson's flow with a loud cough, choking on his port as his eyes widened in apparent amazement. He had stayed silent for a long time and simply watched, expressionless, as Farquarson spoke about Rebecca as if she had no mind of her own, but as Adams shot him a worried stare from the corner of the drawing room Monty's cough turned into a laugh as he leapt to his feet and paced in front of the two older aristocrats.

"Rufus Gannon!" Monty exclaimed with a snort. Lord Farquarson glared at him as a surreptitious smile crept across the Earl's lips. "That is the most preposterous thing I have ever heard you say, Cecil, and you have certainly said some preposterous things in your time!"

Farquarson visibly riled, looking positively affronted. How _dare_ his son-in-law poke fun at him when he is being deadly serious! Adams stayed perfectly still but his eyes darted from one aristocrat to the other, his mind spinning with the awful truth the unsuspecting Lord had so callously announced to the room.

Did Rebecca know anything about this? Adams suspected she most certainly did not, Lord Cecil Farquarson hardly seemed like the caring father who would even bother so much as tell his daughter that the world was about to end, let alone he was planning to force her into another marriage like she was 18 and not 28 with a son and money of her own.

"What's wrong with Rufus!" Farquarson asked furiously as the Earl shifted awkwardly in his chair, glancing around for Adams then brandishing his empty glass for a re-fill.

"Oh come on, Cecil, we all know what Rufus is like!" Monty chortled, smoothening down his brown curls and leaning against the fireplace. "He's a bounder and a cad, not to be trusted, for God's sake he's even had unscrupulous dealings with Fiffington-Piffle in the past….!"

Farquarson huffed loudly. "That's just it, all in the past man!"

"And he just so happens to be one of the richest businessmen in the country?" Monty asked, his words dripping with sarcasm as the Earl muttered 'new money' under his breath.

"He's been banned from our club for life for a start, he's managed to upset a lot of people with his carryings on, and all that to-do with a certain drunken incident, The Times had a field day with that one, " Monty continued, slamming his glass down on the highly polished mantelpiece, but it was as if something occurred to him and he quickly removed the glass and wiped away any liquid which may have left a nasty stain that possibly a certain servant may have had to spend hours trying to remove. For a moment his brown eyes softened, he had little idea of what she did in a day and whether it included stain removal, he had hardly asked and he suddenly felt a wave of guilt.

"Poppycock, Monty!" Lord Farquarson bristled. "The poor fellow's a victim of his own success, it's jealousy my good man, jealousy!"

"She'll never agree to it, be realistic." Monty continued, shaking his head and loosening his cream necktie in the intense heat. "She's young, a free spirit, she's got everything to live for, why on earth would she want to be stuck with someone she would see as an old fuddy-duddy in his late forties?"

Adams shuffled nervously but Monty didn't seem to notice and carried on. "Besides it would be unheard of, she's still grieving for Hugo and little Archie, can't you just leave her be for now?"

Farquarson downed the last gulp of port then clicked his fingers at Adams and pointed to his glass. "I am her father, Montgomery, and I know he would be a perfect match for her! It would be an honour for her, she should be grateful, I mean like I say there aren't many men who would take on another man's son and what he could quite possibly see as used goods…..for God's sake man, watch what the bloody hell you're doing!"

Adams had missed the glass completely, sloshing the deep red liquid down Farquarson's white waistcoat so he looked like he had just been shot.

"I'm so sorry sir, I….." Adams began apologetically but Farquarson waved him away as the Earl barked expletives at his incompetent under-butler.

"What sort of fools are you employing here Algie!" Farquarson sniffed. "I'll have to change before dinner, most inconvenient I must say! Look at me, first I have to bury my grandson and now this, today really is appalling! It's my favourite damn waistcoat!"

Monty glanced at Adams and caught his eye as he retreated towards the door so he could find a maid to quickly remove the stain which had spread at Farquarson's feet. Although Monty wasn't smiling his eyes certainly were and the knowing glint caused the breath to catch in Adams' throat. He /can't/ know, Adams thought as he began to perspire in the intense humidity of the room. It was a hot day and this situation made the temperature almost unbearable. There was no way that Lord Montgomery could know, last time Adams heard him and his repulsive wife communicating with each other she was shouting at him over bedding his whore 'right under her nose'.

Surely there was no way she would tell him, it was her only card to play against her sister, the Sword of Damocles she wielded high above Rebecca's head, there had to be very little chance she would tell a husband she so obviously despised. Still, either way it looked like Rebecca had a much-needed ally in her brother-in-law and for that Adams was thankful.

At that moment an unsuspecting Jarvis entered the room, barging past Adams who had turned white as a sheet, his collar soaked in sweat. Lord Julian had begun to laugh in his chair, but that was hardly unusual, he would laugh at a bird landing on the window ledge if the mood took him.

"Dinner is served…." Jarvis began, but trailed off as his eye caught sight of the obvious, spreading stain on Farquarson's jacket. For once Julian's giggles had made sense.

"Yes well it may be served for some, but I have to go and change thanks to this imbecile!" Farquarson snorted furiously, indicating to Adams who gulped silently and slid out of the door. "Now where's my man, if he's not there with a fresh waistcoat in two minutes I'll have him strung up from the flagpole!"

"I have to attend to dinner and I've too much to do this evening, I'll speak to you about this tomorrow." The butler hissed to his subordinate after Farquarson had begun to make his way up the stairs, shouting and cursing so loudly he was sure to wake baby Hugo.

"It was an accident, sir, honestly…." Adams protested, but the sharp, cold stare in Jarvis' eyes begged to differ.

"Tomorrow, Mr Adams! Now please find Mr Forest, he should be here!" Jarvis marched off as Mrs Diggins appeared with Lady Mary, guiding her towards the dining room and away from the front door.

Adams rubbed his forehead - it had been an accident, but it felt good and part of him was glad he had done it. Andrew Adams 1, Cecil Farquarson 0.


	4. Episode 4

Lizzie awoke the next morning to the same burning question her overly active mind had been transfixed on since dinner the previous evening – why was it only when he knew that she could see him, did he make any attempt to withdraw his hand from her limpet like hold? Did he allow her to do so willingly? Did he even initiate it? One thing was for sure, he didn't appear to be beating her off with a stick, far from it…

She ran her hands over her face and up through her hair, letting out an enormous yawn, signifying what little sleep she had managed, before hauling herself up to sit, still underneath her blanket, hugging her knees. From this position, she could see the object of her fury, who now, on Mrs Watson's orders, was occupying Charlotte's old bed. Lizzie thought this quite ironic, the very spawn of Satan himself now laying at rest in a bed once the divan of a child of God.

She asked herself – Just what could he see in her? For the following few moments, she simply took the time to survey what she had come to see, now more than ever, as the opposition. True she was fairly pretty, younger than she was, clearly not afraid to use these few feminine charms she possessed … but there seemed to be very little depth, nothing bellow the surface, nothing beyond her bravado and propensity, if ever this faltered, to steadfastly act like butter wouldn't melt … she was too artificial, too contrived to enable her to secure anyone's most earnest affection, the very little that she seemed to have was through entertaining them with a few wild stories they were already beginning to know word for word.

Well, she has to do something to get people's attention doesn't she? Lizzie resolved, before comforting herself with the fact that she'd felt the weight of Will's stare upon her throughout the meal (which may have been quite unsettling then, but was now quite reassuring), from the moment she caught his eye, a shared look that triggered the hasty retrieval of his hand. From that same moment, she had refused to return his stare, very rarely shooting a fleeting look his way after checking, out of the corner of her eye, that he had taken his eyes off her.

Only the once, the last glance, was she too late in changing her line of vision, he'd caught her. Not for long though, as Hettie's piercing laughter broke their concentration, Will looking away, in the direction of the rather raucous laughter. That was it Lizzie thought, she couldn't sit there any longer, very shortly afterwards addressing her father, begging his pardon to leave the table, of course she didn't tell him why.

Thankfully he didn't ask, by now Adams had learned that it was probably wise not to enquire as to the reason for young ladies having to leave the table abruptly, as it was more often than not down to delicate women's matters that he had no wish to go into, least of all at the dinner table.

She'd willed away the rest of the evening until it was time to retire, gladly accepting any request (well almost) for help in doing anything, as long as it kept her busy, kept her away from the Billiard room where he would, around about then, have been handing out the cigars and brandies, chalking the cues, as his rich and privileged masters had not quite mastered that yet.

Cursing herself for once again letting lying awake, as she'd done many, many a time before, thinking of him, where he was what he was doing, especially now, by all rights, her thoughts and dreams should be focused on another. Wriggling back down the bed, she caught the unmistakeable rustle of paper.

'Oh god, it's still there' she thought, screwing up her face, pulling the cover over her head, curling up into a ball, hoping it would slip down the side of the bed so she could pretend she'd lost it, better still, it never arrived. Damn, that wasn't going to wash, both Grace and Johnny knew she had it, Grace could be trusted not to let on, but as for Johnny… she wouldn't trust him as far as she could…

It wasn't as bad as she'd made out, she loved to hear from him, but all of a sudden, everything was beginning to seem so much more complicated than she could ever have imagined. She'd made her bed, she had to lie in it, she told herself as she slid a tentative hand under her pillow to seize the now quite crumpled envelope. Taking a deep breath, she tore it open and began to read.

My darling Lizzie, Is it really almost two months since you left Lochberne? Aye, I know very well that it is, sometimes it seems so much longer, but others I still expect you to tap on the greenhouse windows, asking is Id like any lemon crush. Its my favourite you know, I miss it, but not a jot as much as I miss you. You'll be glad to hear that Malcolm has finally found a use for himself, he's managed to persuade Douggie Fairbank to give him a second shot with the horses, think he realised that it wasn't his fault he couldn't get the shoes on straight, he's always been nervous of them - as I'm sure you'll remember – and when it started bucking, it was all the poor lad could do was to keep his wits about him long enough to stop it bolting.

Ginny is well on her way now, beginning to show, but I think its going to take her a lot of getting used to, they only got married in April and to have a little one on the way so soon, well, it was more than even they'd expected. I trust that all is well and good with your lady (for we have not heard), please do send her my best when you see her next, its nearly time isn't it? I am so glad that by the time our little Gin is ready you'll be here to help her, what with mum not being here anymore, and she looks up to you so much, I cant tell you. Of course her and Hamish send their love and wish you a safe return home.

Theres another certain lady who asks everytime I see her when that will be. Im going down there tomorrow to take her some shortbread old Mrs Mcteir baked for her, but last week she was much better than we could have hoped for my dear, she is making some progress the doctor told her and I must say, she has some colour back in her cheeks, so much so I mistook her for an older sister of yours, of course she didn't believe me, but it brought a much needed smile back to her face.

You know, none of us are ever happier than when you are here, I wrote to old Tom Partridge, telling him the news, do you know what he said – 'about time too, its only taken you ten years to work that one out!' I wish it hadn't taken me so long, that Id have said something before you left for Taplows. Of course I don't begrudge you going, you found your father, it was so important to you. Now it is very important to me that I meet him, I know I really should have before, but I'll ask him now, I only hope he can forgive me, and give us his blessing. Well, that is just about everything, all that's left to say now is that I cannot wait to see you again Lizzie, I am determined that it will not be long until I do, until we are reunited my love.

Look after yourself and stay safe my sweet, always and forever yours, Arlen.

Lizzie let the letter drop from her grasp, closing her eyes, the last line repeating itself over and over in her head, a tremendous feeling of guilt sweeping over her, he was just so…. What was she doing! She trailed off, clasping her mouth in her hand. Her chain of thought was broken as she heard Grace hiss 'Liz?'

Her head shot up and over to her friend who had her head propped up on her left hand, looking intently back at her, as she continued inquisitively 'Well, what did he say?'

Meanwhile a few corridors across a very different conversation was about to take place.

"Don't take him….Walter don't let them take him…Please give him back it was a mistake I haven't forgotten about him I swear it please….WALTER!" Flora screamed in her sleep, fighting off unknown adversaries whilst her very much awake husband tried his best to rouse her.

"Flora darling wake it…It is only a dream sweetheart, I'm here and no one is taking anybody anywhere I promise…." He trailed off brushing the tears away from her pale trembling cheek as Flora's eyes darted around the room.

"Where are they…What have they done with my baby?" She cried out her mind still locked in the remnants of her nightmare.

"Shush no one has done anything to our child here…" He whispered prising loose one of the hands that clutched at the bedclothes and placing it on her belly. "See safe and sound." He added leaning down and kissing her forehead. "It was just a bad dream."

"No…" Flora gasped shaking her head. "He's not…"

"Shush who's not?"

"He doesn't even have a grave, at least Archie has that much." She babbled burying her head into his shoulder and sobbing.

"Flora stop this you're not making sense." Jarvis snapped. "Our child is fine what on earth has possessed you?"

"At least Rebecca has that…I never even got to hold him, they just took him away and threw him away like garbage and I couldn't stop them but it was my baby….Walter please if anything happens this time don't take it away before I get to say goodbye please…." Flora choked wrapping her arms around her husband and squeezing him so tight he thought she might cut off his circulation.

"Nothing is going to happen! What on earth has gotten into you, it's that bloody funeral isn't it? Flora sweetheart nothing is going to happen to our baby do you hear me? Our little Walter is going to be strong and healthy…"

"Don't!" Flora sobbed. "Don't call it that, that is not my baby's name it could never be this baby's name…"

"But we agreed ages ago.."

"No our other child was called Walter…Did you even see him? Grace didn't tell me till a week or so afterwards but she held him briefly he was so very small he could lay in the palm of her hand but then the Dr told her to wrap him up….He said it would have been too distressing and that the less I knew the better but when I asked she told me it was a little boy…Our little boy and I couldn't protect him, what if I loose this child too as punishment?"

"Dear god." Was all Jarvis could mutter pulling the sobbing woman into his arms. "I had no idea…Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Cause I wanted to forget, and I did, and now I feel like I'm being punished because I chose to forget about him…Ever since I found about this little one its been at the back of my mind, all the way through I haven't been able to forget and I've been wondering if it would have been the same with little Walter…"

"Flora don't please don't." Walter whispered unable to stop the tears from brimming in his own eyes.

"But we shouldn't have just forgotten about him Walter!" Flora snapped. "We could have had a bouncing six month old by now, hell I could even be pregnant again with our second…"

"Flora stop I'm begging you!" Walter choked running his hand down the side of her face. "He's dead and there is nothing any of us can do about it…We just have to move on and make the most of what we have and…" He trailed off rubbing his hand gently across her belly, "We have so very much to be thankful for."

"I know its just I don't have anything to remember him by, I was such a fool at the time I thought it was the right thing but I burnt every last thing I made for him and now there is nothing left…I don't even have a grave I can visit!"

"We don't need any of that!" Walter whispered soothingly. "We know in our hearts how much he was wanted, how much we would have adored him, and just cause you've chosen to move on does not mean you've forgotten about him."

"I know I just wish…"

"If wishes were horses?" Jarvis cut in cryptically pulling her close and brushing the hair from her face. "Now please try and sleep, tomorrow we'll try and think of someway to honour his memory but for now you and the little one need to rest."

"You'll stay with me?" Flora whispered nuzzling her head into his shoulder.

Smiling Walter planted a lingering kiss on her forehead. "It'll take more than a few nightmares and tears to get rid of me."

"You won't ever get bored of me will you Walter?" Flora mumbled softly allowing the gently thump of his heartbeat to lull her to sleep and so missing his whispered. "Not in a thousand years my love."

The next morning had been an early breakfast call for the household. Lord Hamilton-Hussey was to travel to Bristol for a day's business and to pick up some other 'nick-nacks', as he said most mysteriously to a vaguely interested and extremely hung-over Lord Julian, while the Earl was to take an early-morning ride in the haze sunshine before it became 'so bloody hot' one could 'fry an egg' on His Lordship's forehead. Lady Mary had been up half the night wandering, including an unfortunate detour into Lord Farquarson's bedchamber and attempting to climb into bed with him, so Mrs Diggins decided it best to take her Lady straight to the morning room at a slightly later hour so she could eat separately from the rest of the house for fear of inducing a fatal acute myocardial infarction in poor old Cecil. Lady Rebecca made it down for breakfast for the first time since her delivery, one again donning her mourning dress, and ate only the smallest morsels of toast and fruit. She shot the odd sad glance at a worried under-butler who fussed around her so much he might have given the game away if Lord Farquarson hadn't been too busy coughing and complaining to care to notice.

However, it was not long after breakfast was over for the less batty aristocrats that Adams found himself in Jarvis' pantry, awaiting a dressing down for his carelessness with the port and the usual Jarvis pull-yourself-together chat which he had become accustomed to from him over the past year or so. It amazed him how time had flown so fast, it hardly seemed a few months since he first arrived, a smug look on his face as he told George and Will they were to lose pay for a month for fighting. He remembered the sheer horror on Will's face when he realised he had been usurped in his quest for promotion and even now Adams couldn't help a wry smile. Even in middle age Adams found he still had had a lot to learn when he first arrived, he had no idea about Lizzie and the joys fatherhood could bring, he thought it was over for him and Rebecca and she was bound to find someone rich and handsome and well, certainly not of the 'other persuasion', but although he felt his prospects for butler were dwindling with his age her obvious love for him gave him the confidence and peace of mind no job could ever give him.

"Ah, there you are Andrew." Jarvis smiled as he marched into his pantry, closing the door behind him. It took Adams by complete surprise to see the butler so - jovial. As far as Adams could tell it wasn't his usual nature, especially when he was building up to giving someone a good telling-off, but Jarvis continued to sport a genuine smile as he placed his book of figures on his desk and fixed his glasses behind his ears.

"Sir?" Adams asked, slightly confused.

"I've just seen your sister." Jarvis beamed, opening the book at the correct page and fishing around in a drawer for his quill. "She's a lovely lady isn't she? Always willing to help. I was wrong about her, and for that I apologise. She is most professional and she certainly seems to have a way with the gentlemen."

"Well...thank you, sir." Adams nodded in mild unease, not quite sure what his superior meant but not really wanting to delve much further. "You seem very, well, full of the joys of summer sir."

"Indeed I am, Andrew, indeed I am." Jarvis glanced over the rims of his spectacles and placed his quill in the spine of his book. "That new lad, Charlie, he's already beginning to prove himself, he's got an excellent command of English, his grammar is always impeccable and understands, unlike some, when to appropriately use 'were' and 'was' in a sentence. Mrs Diggins finds him most charming, she's even let him serve Lady Mary her breakfast, and I have just observed him helping my wife folding blankets in his morning break. Yes he is most astute and has promised to bring Flora cups of tea in between his duties."

"Yes he seems most competent, sir." Adams offered, aware that Jarvis hadn't actually asked him his opinion but stating it none-the-less. "It's good to have a hard worker around here for a change."

Jarvis cocked an eyebrow at Adams and pursed his lips, considering him for a moment before breathing "Indeed. I expect he will make an excellent under-butler one day."

"Let him get to first footman first, sir!" Adams added a little too readily, causing the butler to prickle and his to eyes cloud over.

"We shall see, although Mr Forest is hardly ready to be under-butler. He still has all the maturity of in, Mr Matkin!" Jarvis frowned as he spotted Fred loitering outside his office having pushed the door open a crack. Fred peered round and gave an apologetic nod.

"Sorry to interrupt Mr Jarvis but could I have a quick word? Out here?" He asked in a cautious whisper, thumbing an envelope and looking slightly nervous.

Jarvis sighed, muttering 'very well' under his breath and following Fred out of the door to Adams could see them through the window but not hear a word. He saw Fred talking in a highly serious manner to the butler, handing him the letter and glancing through the glass at Adams as he spoke. Adams tried to lip-read but it was no good, but the look on Jarvis' face as the good humour fell away from it told him it had to be bad news. With a final word to Fred the butler carried the still unopened letter into his pantry and shut the door as Adams watched him in alarm. Jarvis didn't speak, he didn't even acknowledge Adams was still standing there, instead he pulled his letter opener out of his draw and sliced into the envelope as if it had offended him and unfolded the letter inside. It felt an age to Adams as Jarvis scanned the neatly handwritten lines carefully, the only tell-tale sign that he was reading something distasteful were his furrowed eyebrows and the thin, straight line of his tightly pressed lips. He flipped the page over, lowering the letter and slowly removing his spectacles in deep thought.

"I think you'd better read this." He said sternly, handing Adams the letter which he accepted in trepidation. After he had read the letter once he read it again, then again, his face contorted in such a manner that Will might have said he looked as if his tart had died of syphilis.

"This is madness." Adams finally spoke, his throat suddenly dry. Jarvis didn't reply. "This is….what does he mean! 'Mr Adams has been sniffing around my daughter's bedchamber in such a manner I cannot contemplate leaving her alone'! 'If you, Mr Jarvis, are not prepared to take serious consideration of your under-butler's position if he continues to act in an unbecoming manner then I must consider a course of action which may not be to your liking'!" Adams pulled his eyes away from the letter and stared in horror at the butler who had snatched up his jacket from his chair and paced over to the window. For a long moment neither man spoke, Adams waiting for some sort of helpful response which could sort out this whole sorry mess, but when Jarvis turned to look at him his gaze was distant and hard. He knew what he had to say.

"Mr Adams, Lord Farquarson has lodged a formal complaint against you." Jarvis began slowly. "He says that he's not spoken to His Lordship about this matter, but I'm surprised it's taken him this long to notice something wasn't quite…right. You do realise what this means, don't you?"

"But sir!" Adams pleaded, his voice quiet yet desperate and his fearful eyes wide. "We're being as careful as we can, it's not been easy lately, what with little Hugo and Archie…."

"Mr Adams." Jarvis interrupted firmly, cutting him off as if he knew exactly how he was about to plead his case. "I will consider this more after I have spoken to Lord Farquarson, but you know what I'm going to say don't you? You have to stop seeing her. It's over. There's not even a choice, it's not her or your job, it's a case of your job or nothing."

"But sir, I can't….."

"Don't make me have to dismiss you, Mr Adams!"

"He has no right to do this!" Adams growled, prowling up and down the office as his fists clenched. "She is a grown woman, why can't he accept that!"

"He has every right to do this, he thinks he is protecting his daughter." Jarvis tried to reason firmly as he stepped towards the door and reached out to the handle.

"Pah! Protecting her, he's protecting himself more like, and his bloody reputation!" Adams fumed, but the butler let go of the handle and stormed up to him so close that a mere whisper could be heard.

"Watch what you say, Andrew." He warned with a heavy tone. "You must remember your place!"

"But my son…."

Jarvis' expression turned more severe, but Adams was sure he could detect a hidden sympathy. Still the butler's words were harsh and cut through him like one of Felix's meat cleavers. "You must stop referring to him as your son, he is Lord Hugo, heir to the Lochberne estate and the legitimate son of the deceased Laird. It's for his own good as well as yours, you wouldn't wish anybody to know the truth would you? Anyone who could renounce his title!"

Adams stood helplessly as Jarvis opened the door a crack, turning back to his subordinate.

"Mr Jarvis sir, I love him. I love Rebecca." Adams confessed, his eyes brimming with tears just as they had done when he thought Rebecca might die. "They are my family, I can't live without them. How would you feel if someone stopped you from seeing Flora and your child! If social protocol prevented it! Please don't make me do this!"

Jarvis paused, as if considering his point, but his fierce expression didn't soften. "I've been tolerant of your liaison up to now and I don't wish to loose you, you're a good under-butler and after a few hiccups at first I think you fit in well here. Don't ruin your career. End it, Mr Adams. Now I'd better go and see Lord Farquarson to put his mind at rest."

Adams opened his mouth to speak but Jarvis was already out of the office and marching down the corridor, his good mood well and truly spoiled as he shouted at any servant who dared to cross his path, leaving them reeling in his wake. In his fury at the hopelessness of the situation Adams kicked the wall hard, but only succeeded in stubbing his toe on the unforgiving brickwork. He yelped in pain, his ears ringing so loudly with anger he barely heard the shouting and crashing coming from the kitchen as he hopped out of the pantry in the hopes of finding some poor wretch on whom he could take it all out on.

In the kitchen, all hell was about to break loose at the hands of Chef as he loomed over a helpless kitchen maid who was shaking as she clutched a tray of untouched poached eggs and toast. Felix was eyeing the tray furiously, his complexion reddening as she began to positively cower under the weight of his stare, and the rest of the staff had stopped busying themselves and were whispering amongst themselves, Felix far to preoccupied to notice.

"Betty, Betty, Betty," He began calmly, the maid blinking in panic, but his reassuring tone quickly turned to an all-out yell. "WHY ARE YOU BRINGING ME BACK A FULL TRAY! AGAIN!"

"She...Lady Mary...she didn't want it Chef, she rang down for it to be collected..."

"But this is just how she likes it, she's ALWAYS had it this way! Why does she make such a fool out of Felix Kraus!" Felix ranted, scooping up the plate of eggs and throwing it across the kitchen so it clattered into one of his finest copper pans and caused poor Betty to yelp in fright. Egg splattered up the walls but not one member of the kitchen staff moved a muscle as the chef prowled around the table.

"Time and time again I wonder what I did to deserve such ungrateful masters, I am wasted at this intolerable place, WASTED! I put up with insolence with a smile on my face and why do I do it! WHY! Am I not the greatest Chef in Europe! AM I NOT!"

"Yes, chef." Came the monotonous reply from his staff, some of whom rolled their eyes. They had seen – and heard - it all many times before.

Betty stepped timidly forward, her bottom lip trembling as she spoke in a mouse-like whisper "Lady Mary says she wants s...scrambled eggs, Chef. W...with pepper in them. And she wants Mr Simpkins to take them in person...she thinks her food is b...being p...poisoned, Chef."

Felix swung round dramatically and took large, threatening strides towards Betty, his eyes popping wildly. He snatched a ladle off its hook and brought it down firmly and soundly on the nearest surface, the deafening crash reverberating around the entire servants quarters.

"She is crazy! Poisoned! By whom, may I ask, the Ghoul of Christmas Past!"

"Ghost, Chef. It's the _Ghost_ of Christmas Past." Came a lone, small voice from by the stove. Everyone parted and stared at the young girl as if she had corrected the Earl himself, but Betty looked relieved as Felix turned his attention away from her and towards her regretful colleague.

"Ghoul, ghost, spook, I do not give a damn, Miss Walker, I was making a point! And who told you you could read books! If you did less reading and more cooking then maybe you would be worth your pittance of a wage!"

The maid's eyes brimmed with tears and she turned away to busy herself with a carrot, muttering a timid "Yes, Chef".

"Well!" Felix screeched in Betty's face as she placed the tray on the table and took a tentative step backwards. He smacked the ladle repeatedly into the palm of his hand as if ready to swing it at the next outspoken subordinate.

"Who the hell does she think is poisoning her! Does she not know in her madness that it is I who oversees everything that goes up to that ungrateful bunch!"

"T…that's just it, Chef," Betty gulped, her wide eyes darting from Felix to her startled colleagues and back again. "She thinks _you_ are trying to poison her, I heard her saying to Mrs Diggins that she thinks you murdered her deceased husband by pouring laudanum into his leek and potato soup, it was his last meal she said….."

With a sudden roar or fury Felix picked up an unfortunately placed jelly mould, the contents of which were about to be placed in the Pastry to set, and hurled it in the same direction the eggs had flown in moments earlier, followed by a bag of cabbages which caught poor Miss Walker square on her apron and caused her to cry on the spot.

"Mr Kraus!" A strong, female voice came from by the door as Felix brought his ladle down square in the middle of a trifle, the cream and custard splattering out from the bowl with such propulsion it sprayed the surrounding area and any kitchen maid it came across.

"MR KRAUS!" The housekeeper raised her voice even further, bravely stepping into the fray and scooping the trifle off the table before he could do any more damage to the defenceless desert. "Can't you have a bad day _without_ wantonly destroying your own hard work!"

"Lovely Lady Bourne has decided I am trying to kill her, Mrs Corey!" Kraus announced, throwing his arms into the air in dramatic gesture. "She has accused me - _me_ ! - of killing her husband, EVEN THOUGH I was not even employed here at the time of his death! Now she wishes Mr Simpkins to cook for her, no I am no longer good enough, in fact I am even _dangerous_ ! It is ludicrous that Felix Kraus should subject himself to such – such idiocy!"

Flora opened her mouth, floundering for the right words until all she could mutter, aware of staff eyes and ears,

"But Lady Bourne doesn't understand what she is saying most of the time, Felix, she has not been herself for quite some time. You could still cook, she wouldn't know the difference, she'll have forgotten by dinner time she even said such a thing….."

"Well if she wishes Mr Simpkins to cook for her, then she is welcome to him!" Felix shouted, drowning Flora out so her mouth snapped shut instantly as Mr Simpkins' round frame appeared from the Pastry. "And you think, Mrs Corey, nobody could tell the difference between myself and Mr Simpkins!"

"Well, no, I er meant you could……"

"If you think that she cannot tell the difference then watch me make scrambled egg a la Mr Simpkins!" Felix barged past an incredibly startled and slightly dizzy housekeeper, snatching two eggs from a plate on the table and throwing them into an empty bowl so they fragmented instantly, yolk and egg white mixing with broken shell. The kitchen staff, including the red-faced cook, looked on in utter shock as the chef built himself up into a raging frenzy as he sloshed far too much milk into the bowl with the eggs then added so much pepper it wasn't just the shell that made the mixture inedible.

"Well what should we add now, Mrs Corey!" Felix asked a trembling Flora, but when no answer was forthcoming, apart from an alarmed squeak, the chef gathered anything he could come across, including preserves and onion skins and started to add random ingredients to the revolting-looking mishmash of foods. "I know, Mr Simpkins is partial to jam, so we'll add some of that – you'd probably like this, Flora, considering the cravings you've been having lately – now what should I add! Oh I know, how about some beetroot and a cauliflower!"

"Mr Kraus, you're wasting food again, please stop!" Flora begged him, grabbing onto his arm, but the chef shook her off furiously so she stumbled backwards and jabbed her lower back against one of the wooden work surfaces.

To her shock he didn't even seem to notice he had done it, or that she was in pain, he was far too preoccupied yelling at poor Betty to fetch him a whisk. Flora's eyes brimmed with tears as she rubbed her back – she would normally have been able to deal with Felix, calm him when he got into one of his terribly foreign rages, but this time it wasn't working and he hardly seemed to care he was upsetting her in front of his entire staff. She had hoped Walter would have come running on hearing Felix, there was no way he could not have been partial to some of the ranting, but she knew he always liked to stay well away from him when he was like this and she couldn't really blame him.

Flora felt herself being overcome with emotion all of a sudden, it quickly built up in her like a torrent and overflowed into a silent sob, shocking her with its intensity. The tears flowed readily down her cheeks, but as she turned to leave Charlie Lewis appeared in the doorway, his blue eyes narrow as they watched Felix thoughtfully. He wasn't used to such uncontrolled emotions in a man, it made the chef look foolish and unprofessional in front of the very people he was supposed to be setting an example to and this made Charlie snort with displeasure. His calculated gaze shifted to a very relieved-looking housekeeper and he smiled warmly.

"Ah, Mrs Corey, I was on my way to fetch you some tea and cake before door duty, Mr Jarvis gave me strict instructions to make sure you are resting regularly." Charlie said reassuringly as Felix swung round to glare, whisk in hand and jam, flour, egg and goodness knows what else glued to his white coat and face.

"Mrs Corey I apologise, but what in God's name is a footman doing in my kitchen! Lady Bourne has already sent back one dish you took her, now get out – OUT!" Felix jabbed the dripping whisk accusingly at Charlie, but the new footman stepped valiantly in front of Flora as if she needed protecting from the crazed madman the Earl employed to cook his meals.

"I have come for tea and cake for Mrs Corey, Mr Kraus, so will you allow me to carry out the duty Mr Jarvis instructed me with or shall I fetch him so he can confirm it?" Charlie asked, a cocky edge to his tone but one which was masked with an air of professionalism.

Felix sighed, his teeth gritted as he eyed the handsome young man stood before him, Flora peering from around his shoulder. "Very well." He muttered, his anger quite obviously subsiding as he dropped the whisk into the bowl and stepped back. His staff knew well enough to get on with their work once their boss had got to a state where there was no calming him, heads just glancing over shoulders in the long wait for him to get whatever it was out of his system, but nevertheless Mr Simpkins remained watchful from a distance as Charlie collected the cake and tea and lead a weary housekeeper from the kitchen back to her room.

Cut to the Footman's dressing room where its that time of day again, the powdering of the girlie, itchy and thoroughly pointless white prissy wigs that were, if you can believe it, even more irritating in the July heat. It was a rather depleted gathering at the moment with only two of the Earl's four footmen present, however that was before an unusually late Joe nipped in the door, closing it behind him straight away.

'And what time dya call this?' Will asked in his authoritative, first footman tone.

'Shhhh!' Jo scolded as he pressed his ear up against the wall.

'Don't tell me to bloody sush!' Will started

'Ah never mind him Will, he's just been calming himself down after dreaming of his lady love again!' Fred chirped up with a self-satisfied smile creeping across his face.

'No I bloody haven't, just be quite will you?'

'Oooooh, sorry mate.' Fred began apologetically. Before turning to his partner in crime and muttering 'touched a nerve there methinks!'

'What are you doing?' Will questioned rising from his seat, walking towards the door which Jo was straining to listen at.

'Shhh!' he repeated, silently gesturing to Will to join him. On doing so, they could hear footsteps outside the door. They were very different, one the unmistakable click of the housekeepers heels, the sound they had over the years learned to take as a warning, the other was more cushioned, more subtle but still just about audible as they passed directly outside the door.

Knowing both the identities, having seen them on the way in, Jo thought allowed 'Whats his game?'

'Who's game?' the two others hissed in unison.

'That Charlie!'

'Whats the little brown noser up to now?' Will grumbled

'Making a good impression on Mrs Corey but the sounds of it' Fred replied after the sound of the Housekeepers giggle floated up the corridor and in through the keyhole.

'The little…!' Will trailed off, straining even further now their mumbles were getting fainter and fainter.

A few seconds later, with all three footmen now pressed up against the solid oak door, Jo gently pressed on the handle, though a little warning wouldn't have gone a miss as he couldn't support their weight, the door swinging forcibly open, the other two ending up sprawled on the cold slate floor.

'Nice one mate!' Will hissed heaving muscle man Fred off of him as he looked down the corridor to see Mrs Corey pointing out where they kept the boot polish, the new boy standing most enthusiastically next to her, holding what appeared to be a tea tray.

'What the hell did you do that for?' the other scolded as he got to his feet, brushing himself down, before offering his hand to Will.

Despite the fact that both had tried to keep their voices down, it was too late, they'd been overheard, a fact they discovered as they attempted - as subtly any of the three of the could – to pile back into the room without being seen, but Jo wasn't quick enough closing the door behind them, leaving himself a sitting duck.

'Mr James!' the shrill of Mrs Corey's voice rang out, reverberating against the narrow corridor walls, echoing between their ears.

'Yes Mrs Corey' he answered tentatively, wincing slightly as he shot a worried look at his accomplices who were retreating further into the room. He wished he could have joined them, but at the moment, it was if his hand was super glued to the handle, he found himself unable to move, as the housekeeper left her companion to stalk back down the passageway, her eagle-eyed stare boring into the back of his head - she was so much more intimidating than her husband when she got going.

'Would you be so kind as to let me in on whatever it is you fine gentlemen …' she rose her voice before pausing, folding her arms, raising her eyebrows, glancing to her right and nodding at the wall separating the corridor from the room in which Fred and Will were hiding, 'think your getting up to?'

'We were just … just…' he babbled into her most intrigued face.

'Oh I think I know what you were…' she retorted mockingly.

'Just checking for woodworm Mrs Corey!' Will cut her off, darting out into the corridor, passed Jo to inspect the door, running his hand down its side, tapping it here and there before hissing 'Werent we?' at Jo who was still going a great turn as an impressionist's dummy.

'That's right!' Fred chimed in, putting his arm round Jo's shoulder, roughing up his head with his fist as he continued 'This one reckons he heard them gnawing at the door' he lied, turning Jo's head roughly to face him 'Didn't you?'

'Uh-hu' a thoroughly dazed Jo finally admitted.

'Don't tell anyone, but we think he's scared, he's always had a thing with creepy crawlies our Jo' Fred joked, raising a small and totally unconvinced smile from the housekeeper, who scanned their three rather agitated expressions.

'Yes well' she started

'Indeed ma'm, no fears, theres nothing untoward here, I think he must of imagined it!' Will said confidently.

'I guess he must have'. She replied, her tone dripping with cynicism.

'Its what sleep deprivation can do to a guy' Fred continued, letting out a rather exaggerated and wholly contrived yawn.

'Really?' she retorted full of concern, before stepping brazenly toward them, carrying on in the same commanding tone, totally unawares as to how this was going to be received 'Well, if you boys are feeling a little weary, I can think of a few things to keep you up'

For a second there was a deathly silence, Will and Fred shooting each other a 'no way did she just say what we think she just said' glance, whilst Jo chose to stare at the floor. Flora stared into space before closing her eyes, desperately wanting to shut the world out. She had realised what she'd said the moment the words left her lips, which were – inadvertently – moving, trebling as she blinked hard and fast, her mind racing as to what she could do next, in the meantime saying the first thing she could think of, correcting herself 'Keep you busy!'

However, when this alteration made the situation no better in the slightest and no other no bright ideas or recovery quips were forthcoming, she steeled herself to look up, attempting to retain as much dignity as she could, though deep down wanting the floor to open up and swallow her.

On surveying their reaction right to left, not one met her eye. Fred was stood up straight, though half leaning against the door for support as he stared at the ceiling, hands clasped behind his back, blinking furiously as his eyes brimmed with tears, she could hear is teeth grinding together before his top set emerged to bite down firmly on his bottom lip. Jo's head still hung downward, though notably he had now – finally – let go of the door, but only to place one hand on his knee, almost doubling over in hysterics, the other clenched in a fist, and despite biting on it so hard he actually drew blood, he had so far failed to subdue his sniggers. As for Mr Forrest, his head was totally obscured by the door, which he now desperately clung to, but she could still see the tell-tale trembling of his shoulders and the bending and extending his firmly together legs, gently bouncing on the spot, as though he were in desperate need of the lavatory, his breathing nearing hyperventilation.

Behind her, totally hidden from view, Master Lewis could hardly contain his own glee, using every drop of his will power to prevent himself from rolling in the aisle with them, flipping back to his holier-than-thou countenance when eventually, holding her head up high, Flora Corey turned on her heels and marched back down the corridor, a torrent of hilarity erupting behind her.

At this she increased her pace, not before she'd heard the door slam, followed by an even greater roar of laughter after one cried 'I bet she does!… lucky Jarvis!' and another mention a 'half naked heathen'. Ignoring him when he started 'How childish…', she almost knocked Charles off his feet as she rounded the corner, feeling thoroughly humiliated, cursing herself for making yet another highly embarrassing slip of the tongue.

However if Flora had thought the day couldn't possibly get any worse then a little after lunch things some how managed to. They had only just been tucking into Felix's delicious but somewhat worse for wear trifle that couldn't have been served to their lordships when the summons came to be the Earls study in a matter of minutes; Walter had tried to persuade Flora to remain behind and let Molly accompany him but for reasons unknown to him his wife had been almost curt in her refusal. So it was half an hour later the flustered pair re-emerged, Flora shuffling a whole stack of papers over the now huge bulge of her belly still desperately trying to scribble down any last minute instructions.

"CAN YOU BELIEVE HIM?" Flora screeched as soon as they were safely back in the servants quarters.

"I know.."

"I MEAN ONE WEEK, ONE BLOODY WEEK!"

"I know Flora dea…"

"HOW THE HELL ARE WE…"

"FLORA!" Jarvis snapped, pulling his wife round to face him and knocking her fist full of papers to the floor. "I KNOW!"

"I'm sorry…But a week to plan a party on this scale, what has possessed him?"

"We will cope!" Walter replied bending down and scooping up her notes from the floor. "Now lets just calm down and think about this rationally." He added sliding his arm supportively round her back and escorting her into his office.

"Fine, rationally, first we need to sort out the setting, Indian…Well come on Walter you were there after all."

Laughing softly Jarvis guided his wife to the fireside chair. "Indeed I was! I would have suggested a silken tent on the lawn but you know how changeable the weather has been, and the last thing we need is a thunderstorm which then soaks the guests, so we'll have to decorate the ballroom, drapes from the ceiling to make it look exotic, bright colours…Then the footmen will need to be in costume…Something simple a sash perhaps, maybe even a sword at their belts…"

"I should thank our lucky stars he doesn't want exotic dancers!" Flora scoffed, adding to her already scribbled notes.

"Indeed but he does want Mrs Stanwick as the centrepiece!"

part

"What?" Flora stuttered glancing up suddenly from her notes.

"The Peacock!" Jarvis chuckled. "Stuffed and served as a delicacy as part of the banquet, tail feathers and all…"

"That's a shame." Flora retorted, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she bent over her notes trying desperately to stifle her grin.

"Indeed, his lordship will be attired as the Maharaja, fortunately he already has his outfit!"

"Care to explain?" Flora cut in, her interest piqued.

"Not at the present time." Walter retorted with a shake of his head. "There will be fifty guests with assorted servants, and twenty of whom are travelling up from London and so will need accommodation…I'm sure the East wing can be aired for the occasion, although at this time of year it will be devilly hot but then that's not our bloody problem now is it…"

"Not yours perhaps but it will be for my poor girls having to take up ice water all the time and opening and shutting the windows at their every whim."

"I am sure they will survive it."

"Yes but I am not sure this guest chef will in Felix's kitchen!" Flora retorted. "You know what he has been like since you got back and he's going to be furious when he learns he won't even be catering this party but then the Earl has forgotten the last time Felix tried to do exotic…And poisoned all the guests!" Flora added.

"That was bloody Prothero!" Walter snapped.

"Oh talking of the Devil I don't suppose you noticed who is on the guest list…" Flora trailed off.

"You are joking!" The butler gasped, tugging the list out of the housekeeper's hands and scanning it furiously before coming back up confused. "I can't see…" He began only stopping when he saw Flora's mischievous expression. "That was not a nice trick to play Flora!"

Laughing out loud the housekeeper suddenly moved a hand to rub her belly as she positively shook with laughter. "It was just too perfect I couldn't resist…Shush baby mama's just happy…"

"See even our child is reprimanding you…such a cruel trick to play on it's father….You know how much I despise that man!"

Part

"I do indeed." She added smothering her giggles as she once more returned to her list, scanning her eyes down the bizarre list of dishes the Earl had specifically requested. "That however is not as important as working out what I am supposed to order to make all of these…What on earth is a Samosa…And what would we need to make Sag Aloo?"

"Ummm well one is this pastry thing with vegetables in and the other is a potato dish…. You'd better ask Felix." Walter added finally. "That's his department."

"Oh yes and he is going to be so helpful!" Flora retorted rubbing her creased forehead in an effort to sooth the now pounding headache. "You saw what he was like at lunch all moody and testy and well if you had seen him in the kitchen this morning I don't think…I mean if Charles Lewis hadn't turned up when he did I swear I might have run out of there in tears."

"What, why didn't you say anything?" Walter asked quickly moving round the desk to pull his wife into his arms rubbing his hands up and down her back soothingly. "No one has the right to upset you!"

"Well wouldn't you have put it down to my condition and me being overly sensitive?" Flora snapped shrugging his embrace off. "It's just I'd rather not have to be in the firing line over this, we both know how he will react and I'm not sure I have the patience or the energy to try and calm him down."

"Well let Molly do it then!" Walter retorted. "You go and get a nice lye down, you'd feel the better for it."

"Trust Molly with a party?" Flora scoffed shaking her head in amusement. "You have to be kidding the most she has ever organised has been a ladies luncheon."

"Why not you've trained her?" Walter replied moving to rub the tension from her neck and shoulders. "You could supervise, just let her deal with the irritating bits like dealing with Felix and ordering the necessary supplies whilst you manage the decoration of the ballroom, all the visual elements that need to be perfect."

Part

"Well I suppose…" Flora whispered closing her eyes and relaxing against his hands. "It couldn't hurt to give her a chance to prove herself, it would keep her out of trouble and Emily could help me with the decorating…"

"See all sorted so why don't you head upstairs and try and sleep off that headache…Yes I know you have one and it's not good for the baby."

"I don't need to sleep…" Flora mumbled softly unable to stifle the yawn, which caused her husband to chuckle softly. "Fine maybe I do…It's just those nightmares well they are so real and…"

"You don't want another one?" Walter finished stroking her hair softly before pulling away and drawing his desk key from his waistcoat pocket he unlocked the top drawer, smiling briefly when his gaze fell upon a certain book that was still cluttering up his drawers.

"I don't think that would help? Unless you think I need a stimulating read before trying to get to sleep!" Flora jibed. "I can't believe Rebecca…I really should go up and see her pass on my personal thanks its just such an effort to climb all those stairs, I make it up five or so then I need to stop for a rest…Walter what's that?" Flora suddenly asked her beautiful face creased in bewilderment as her husband solemnly handed her a smooth and polished piece of pine some rough but intricate carving on the middle but it wasn't until she ran her figures across it she realised in the middle were a set of initials, WRC. At that moment her breath caught in her throat. "What…How.."

"It's from the crib…I was making one in secret the only thing I never got round to finishing was carving in the initials and then this morning when you said about the baby and how you wished you had something to remember him by well I asked one of the junior carpenters to go out to the wood shed and cut out a piece, I added the initials myself I hope you don't mind but I always thought Robert would have been a good middle name to go with Walter, after my brother…"

part

"That's what I had picked." Flora whispered, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

"What?"

"Walter Robert Corey…When you said I could pick the middle name I always knew it would be Robert, and we could have nicknamed him Robby when he was little…" She suddenly broke off unable to continue.

"Thank you." She added her voice throaty with emotion as she levered herself out of the chair clutching the small piece of wood to her breast, leaning forward and kissing her husband gently on the cheek. "Would you please take those through to Molly I think I might go have that lye down now." And with that she turned and glided out the room leaving her husband to surreptitiously wipe away the single tear that trickled down his cheek as she had kissed him.

Taking a deep breath Walter Corey gathered himself, mentally bringing down those barriers on his tumultuous emotions, that was now all in the past and he had to concentrate on the future, his future with Flora and their other child. Gathering her many papers he shuffled them into some semblance of order his eyes scanning across the many notes whilst his real thoughts returned to Dr Evans and his words of warning. This was just what they didn't need, a party to organise and more stress for Flora, meaning she'll be running around like a headless chicken interfering in everything despite her initial agreement to hand things over to Molly. He knew he had to do something, and do it quickly, but he would need help, he would need Molly Watson's help more to the point. Huffing in annoyance he stuffed the papers into his jacket pocket and stormed down the corridor pausing for a moment outside his wife's office then without even bothering to knock he pushed open the door watching as her deputy jumped up almost guiltily from her place dozing by the fireplace.

"Wakey Wakey Mrs Watson, you're going to have to be on your toes if you're going to be housekeeper here!"

"What?" Molly blurted out rubbing her eyes in confusion, she had only dropped off for a moment it was typical of that man to catch her with her guard down. "Housekeeper?"

"You heard me!" Mr Jarvis retorted closing the door firmly behind him before turning back to the frowning deputy housekeeper. "We have a party to organise, and you have a new test of your abilities…How to stay one step of your superior."

It had taken Adams all afternoon to build up the strength for the awful task ahead. How could he tell her? How could he cause her even more pain, if that were possible, than she had already been suffering? His conversation with Jarvis had been the unthinkable and although Adams had known, deep down, that his relationship with Rebecca had reached crisis point he knew that the love and devotion they had for each other would keep them strong. It had all been such a whirlwind since he arrived back from India, he had barely been able to say two words to her before she had gone into labour – both an inconvenience and perfect timing, he thought with a wry smile. But little Archie's death had been such a shock to both of them and now she would barely talk about him, nobody not even Lizzie could even breathe his name in her company and that was just how she seemed to like it.

All Adams wanted to do was scoop her into his arms and hold her, his entire world revolved around her and although he was involving himself in his work far more than he had ever done before even the mere thought of Rebecca still made him shiver with delight. Hugo was perfect, he could already tell the wee lad had his mother's determination and he was sure in time he would be just as strong-willed as her, but he couldn't bear the thought of another man bringing him up. And bloody Rufus Gannon of all people. No, Rebecca would never marry such a cad, her father couldn't force her either.

With a heavy sigh, Adams glanced at his favourite pocket watch. It always reminded him of Rebecca and he felt close to her when he held its gold casing in his palm. Quarter past ten. He approached Rebecca's room cautiously as he had done many times before and knocked lightly, a tray holding the obligatory glass of water in one hand. It was late and he wondered whether she may have fallen asleep, it wouldn't have surprised him considering how emotionally drained and exhausted she had looked at dinner, but a faint voice called out and he pushed the door open a crack and peered round.

"Rebecca, you're awake." He whispered, squinting into the dimly lit room and over to the dresser were Rebecca was sat staring into the mirror. Her freshly washed hair was down and draped neatly over her shoulders and she was dressed in a loose fitting cream nightgown, her dainty face pale and a little hollow-looking around the eyes. She looked even more fatigued than ever.

She turned and smiled softly, a genuine spark of happiness briefly lighting up her features. "Andrew, my darling." She cooed, watching as he hurriedly stepped beyond the door and quietly shut it. "I've just given Hugo his feed and now Elizabeth is with him in the nursery rocking him to sleep, she has been as good as gold helping me with him. I have hardly seen you all day, has Mr Jarvis been keeping you so very busy?"

"Oh, well yes he has, what with this wretched party next week." Adams nodded, stepping towards her. "Your usual water, m'Lady."

"For once I actually need this drink." Rebecca said gratefully, taking a sip of the cooling liquid and placing it on the dresser. Adams simply smiled, partly through pity and party through a desperate need to please her, even if that could only be under the circumstances something so simple as a basic glass of water. Rebecca visibly relaxed her shoulders as her lover began to rub them gently for her, kneading her tense muscles with his thumbs. It was the first time in over six months he had been able to stare at her for the simple pleasure of enjoying her beauty, but as he untied the top of her night gown so he could let his hands massage the bare skin of her shoulders and upper back an all too familiar feeling was quickly replaced by guilt.

"Rebecca….." Adams began, quickly pulling his hands away in an effort to control his urges.

"Kiss me." Rebecca interrupted as she stared up at him, her eyes now wide and alive, her pupils dilated through the candle light. "I know we can't do anything else, I mean I wouldn't be able to, it's still so sore. Everyone thinks I won't be having intimacies again until if I decided to remarry so I've had no advice on how long I need to wait, I shall have to see what advice Dr Evans gives Mrs Corey, if any, but I am sure it can't be for a while. Oh look I'm babbling on….but I'm still attractive to you, aren't I? Do you still want to kiss me as if we were new lovers?"

Adams simply gaped at her, blinking in surprise. How could she _ever_ think she wasn't attractive to him?

"Rebecca," He began softly, crouching next to her, "You are without doubt the most beautiful woman in the world to me, you may look tired but at this moment in time I've never seen you look more stunning. The only reason I've not been near you, in the way you suggest, is because I didn't want to rush you into showing me any affection. Are you sure you want me to kiss you?"

A verbal reply wasn't necessary as Rebecca reached out to where he was knelt beside her and cupped his chin, leaning forward and softly capturing his lips with hers. It was such an intense moment as the lingering kiss turned into a more passionate clinch that it cast Adams right back to their first idyllic encounter in the Scottish hills, the gentle warm breeze brushing against their faces and the long grass whistling quietly around their rapidly entwining legs. They were both so consumed with their kiss that they failed to hear Lizzie enter the bedroom, flush beetroot with embarrassment then hurry out.

"Oh Andrew, I feel so…I don't know what is going to happen." Rebecca sniffed once their lips had broken apart. She brushed a rogue tear from her cheek and rested her head on Adams' shoulder as he supported her. If she had seen the look on his face, the terrible angst which flickered across it, it may have told her that all seemed lost, but instead she closed her eyes as the warmth from his body soothed her. "Please tell me everything will be alright, that we will one day be together."

Adams said nothing for a moment, he simply didn't know how to answer her. She seemed so fragile, so emotionally drained, how could he tell her that her father suspected something improper between them? That Jarvis was on the warpath and he would lose his job if he didn't end their relationship? "Shush now, my darling." Was all he could say, his voice faltering slightly. Rebecca suddenly raised her head and stared at him, her eyes pleading and sparkling with tears.

"Why won't you say it?" She demanded, but her voice was soft and vulnerable. "Andrew please, tell me we will be together, that Hugo won't be brought up without a father, or worse by a man who isn't his father?"

Adams opened his mouth, which suddenly felt dry, as he contemplated his words. No, it was no good. He couldn't say it, tell her the awful truth, he couldn't even bring himself to warn her that Lord Farquarson wanted to make a love match between her and the infamous wealthy entrepreneur Rufus Gannon. He smiled, although somehow he could tell Rebecca wasn't convinced of its reassurance. "Of course we'll be together, one day." Adams whispered quietly. He felt if he tried to speak too loudly the emotion would crack his voice and she would know for sure he was giving her false hope. Reaching up he ran his fingers through her long locks then traced the outline of her face, over her nose and across her lips. "I love you so much, my sweet, sweet Lady Rebecca. I will do anything, _anything_ , for you and for our son, I promise you I will not give you up without a fight. Never."

Rebecca's concerned expression softened as her lips spread into a broad smile and she blinked away her tears. "Come with me." She cooed, taking his hand in hers and standing. "Come with me to the nursery, come and see our son, watch him sleep. He is so adorable, and when he sleeps he is even more adorable." She chuckled softly, as she lead him towards the door. It was then Adams realised he _had_ to fight for her and for Hugo, he didn't care what Jarvis or even Farquarson did to him, without them his life would be over anyway, and Lizzie would have to leave with them leaving him only with his sister. He cursed himself for even considering telling Rebecca he was abandoning her, and he cursed Jarvis for his cruel ultimatum. Well, the butler would never have to know a thing, he had kept it secret from him once before, he was sure he could do it again even if a baby was now involved. Couldn't he?

A few hours later, in another part of the house….

Lying back on her bed, Molly breathed out deeply and shut her eyes, a pink flush of satisfaction across her cheeks. "That was amazing." She sighed, smiling blissfully and slipping a single cotton sheet up over her partially naked form in the warm summer evening heat of her room. She raised her head from her pillow and leant it on Monty's panting chest, running her hand across his toned stomach as he kissed her hairline and let his fingers trail across her bare shoulder.

"It is such an awful shame that we don't have much opportunity for this." Monty replied, eliciting a deep, smouldering chuckle. Molly nodded, hugging him tightly against her and breathing in his scent. It had been the third consecutive night she and her secret lover had been able to be together, and Molly was afraid she would become too accustomed to the nightly excitement she had been enjoying.

"You know I love you, don't you?" Monty asked quietly. Molly looked up and saw such an intense affection in his eyes she thought she might shed a tear, but instead she replied with a soft "of course, you don't need to say it. I love you too, I always will, no matter what happens."

Running his fingertips across her jaw line, the softness of his brown eyes hardening determinedly, Monty rolled onto his side and pulled Molly underneath him. "Listen," He whispered gently. "I'll leave her, I'll divorce her, I'll take the children…."

"Don't!" Molly protested, placing a finger on his lips. "Don't say it, when you know you can't leave her, I wouldn't expect you to, it's your duty to stay with her, she's your wife and part of your status."

Monty frowned. "I should never have married her, I don't even know why I ever did. Convenience, I suppose, her domineering father, but I've never loved her. I don't even _like_ her. But you, my darling Molly, you are everything to me. Everything." He clasped her hand and raised her knuckles to his lips, kissing them one by one. "I should be able to take you away from all of this, to just whisk you away to somewhere, anywhere, just so we can be together without all of this secrecy. I love my country but sometimes I wonder what freedom do we all really have?"

"But you can't just whisk me away." Molly said sadly through a sorrowful smile, smoothening down Monty's ruffled locks. "I have to earn a living here while praying to the Lord that my supposedly dead husband doesn't catch up with me, God only knows what he would do to me…."

"Shhh." Monty soothed, gently kissing the tip of her nose. "I wouldn't let him come within one mile of you, I promise you. If he tried anything, I'd do everything I needed to do in order to protect you."

Molly allowed her hands to wander over Monty's broad shoulders and down his arms. "I know, but you aren't always here are you? Once you've gone back to Scotland…" On seeing the turmoil on Monty's dashing features, Molly forced a reassuring tone to her voice. "Anyway Andrew's here, he knows what Henry's like, he'd make sure he was turned away at the door with more than just a flea in his ear."

"I will be returning to Scotland." Monty sighed, resting his head on his arm and trailing his fingers down the curve of Molly's waist. "But not for very long, and I will only be returning once every few months after that."

"What do you mean?" Molly asked in confusion, noticing a small smile ripple across Monty's lips.

Monty pulled her in tightly and nuzzled the nape of her neck. "I have some news. My business in Bristol, it was to confirm my Liberal candidature for the seat of Northavon, a constituency which includes Taplows and Tappleton in its boundaries."

Molly covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide in surprise. "So you're going to finally be a Member of Parliament? And down here, too?" She gasped excitedly.

"Well, yes." Monty replied sheepishly. "That's if I'm elected. As well as staying here in order to see you, my darling, I have been courting Algie's favour, sounding him out a little on his politics. He doesn't know yet, I haven't told him, but I'm hoping to count on his support as he will carry a lot of weight. I've been after a seat for so long, and now this by-election has come up I couldn't help but try my luck."

Molly winked and raised an eyebrow quizzically. "It doesn't help that you know the Prime Minister, of course." She chuckled.

"Different parties, my dear." Monty smiled, leaning back on his hands. "Although yes he is a fellow Scot and an acquaintance, can't hurt to know your enemies. It's John Russell I want to help, I'm all for reform where it's needed."

Molly nuzzled against Monty's arm and sighed. She had a niggling feeling that he may be leading up to something else, but it wouldn't surprise her if he let her down gently, with more presents and flowers, before finally telling her what she knew to be inevitable. "When is the election?"

"It hasn't been decided yet, probably in a few weeks." Monty replied, matter-of-fact.

Molly raised her head, her eyes wide in obvious disappointment. "So soon?" She asked, her voice high.

"Well, yes." Monty muttered, sliding on top of the beautiful woman by his side. He kissed down her neck and Molly sighed as she lightly grazed her nails across his back.

Coming to her senses, Molly shook her head. "But Monty it hardly gives us any time, I mean I knew you wouldn't be here forever, but it seems too final, I…."

"Molly Watson what on earth are you talking about?" Monty laughed, kissing her lips to silence her, but his expression turned serious when he saw the look of fear in her eyes.

"You know what I'm talking about." Molly said uneasily. "Once you're elected, you know it has to end between us, you'll need Francesca by your side, you won't want me getting in the way of your ambition. And before you say it, I know just how ambitious you are, and I want you to go far. I will understand, I really will."

Shaking his head Monty sat up, the cotton sheet draping down across his waist and only just hiding his modesty. "What? No, you're talking nonsense, it hadn't even crossed my mind that we should end it."

"Really?" Molly raised her eyebrows and looked unconvinced. "You can't say you hadn't thought of it, what if you were found out to have a mistress?"

Monty smiled knowingly at her naivety, taking Molly's hands and studying her concerned expression. "Look, it's not…uncommon for a man in the political public gaze to have a mistress. These things can be, well, overlooked. A blind eye can be turned."

"And you think Francesca will just turn a blind eye if the whispers start?" Molly's voice was becoming a little highly-strung, so sensing her growing stress Monty drew her into a hug and held her tightly.

"My dear Molly, you worry far too much. I will not give you up, I don't care if Francesca turns a blind eye or not, she won't say anything, it's her reputation at stake too." Monty sighed, pulling away and stroking her fingers. He gazed at her slightly raw, chapped knuckles and turned her hands over to see some small grazes in her palms and on her fingers. "I hadn't noticed these, you have been working far too hard. Your poor, beautiful hands look cut to ribbons."

Molly blushed. "Oh, it's nothing, I've just had an awful lot to do, what with Mrs Corey being indisposed."

"I hope Mr Jarvis isn't overworking you." Monty said sincerely, lightly kissing her superficial wounds. For all his well-meaning words, Molly knew he could never understand what she did in a day, how much she had to deal with, and now with Mr Jarvis' current bout of over-protectiveness towards Flora she wondered how much she could stand before the job of housekeeper overwhelmed her.

Monty lay back on the narrow, plain bed and smiled as he studied Molly's body. "One day you won't have to do this, live in these conditions and work for others." He drew her down next to him and nuzzled her shoulder. "I will take you away from all of this. You are my shining light, my food and water, my manna from heaven."

Molly closed her eyes and let his soothing words and gentle fingers envelop her. She was a realist, she knew they couldn't go on like this forever, sooner or later the rumours would start and he would have had to do the unthinkable. Before she fled from Scotland and brutal Henry, Monty had offered her money to keep her near to him, enough to set her up with a small house near the Hamilton-Hussey estate and keep her content for the rest of her life. He had told her that they could see each other regularly, and she wouldn't have to light another fire or change another bed ever again, except for her own. She had, of course, refused. She knew she would still have hardly seen him, Francesca would have made sure of it.

Besides, Molly Watson had been a kept woman before and had hated it then. For all her current exhaustion she enjoyed working for a living, giving her day structure and surrounding herself with colleagues and friends, not sitting alone with only needlework to do all day while wondering if that night she and her Lord would lie together or not. The lack of children had given her a freedom she might not have had otherwise, although the sadness of never having conceived was crushing if she began to ponder it. But, for once, Molly didn't question Monty, content in the knowledge that he meant every word and allowing herself – just for tonight – to believe that one day his heartfelt promises of a life they would share would come true.


	5. Episode 5a

Before anyone had realised it the day of the party had crept up on them, as was custom Mr Jarvis had his boys up a good two hours before they normally rose but that was nothing to the poor maids who as was custom rose earlier anyway but now some were up as early as four-thirty in order to start preparations for the day; there seemed as Will had snorted little point in them going to bed in the first place, not that any had taken up his accompanying offer to keep them awake. The only member of staff that was still entitled to a lie in was Mrs Corey and perversely enough she was the only member of staff who actually wanted to be up and about and in the thick of things.

However just as she had found during the week building up to the party, whenever she went to do anything Molly Watson was already there, just that one step ahead of her. At one point Flora had been concerned her deputy was going to work herself into exhaustion, rushing about as she obviously was, but soon that concern quickly abated as annoyance took over and for a moment Flora actually wished she would, just so she'd get the chance to do her own job properly. There was just something not quite right about it, but she couldn't put her finger on it, every morning as was custom housekeeper and butler would sit down alone and go through the household orders over tea, sharing their own plans and pet peeves about the day ahead without a certain Mrs Watson being present, yet it was like she was either reading Flora's mind or eavesdropping on private conversations between man and wife, for the moment Flora went to do any of those important tasks there was Molly already halfway through them.

It hadn't been long before she had confronted her about it, but as usual she left that discussion with if possible less idea of what was going on than she had before, apart from a heightened sense of conspiracy and guilt. Molly would smile and laugh and comment they must have been working together so long they were anticipating each other's actions so Flora left shaking her head, reconciled to a long boring morning with the household accounts whilst her subordinate barely seemed to stop even for meals. It had occurred to her that Walter and his overprotective husbandly influence might have something to do with it but so far she was still coming up blank as to how & when he was having this little pep talks with her deputy without her knowledge.

For a while she even considered calling in Will and asking him to tail her husband around in the mornings just so she could find out what the hell was going on, however in the end her good sense prevailed, she knew how Walter would react to the idea of her and Will having cosy chats and somehow it seemed hardly fair to subject the poor lad to yet another beating for her sake. However that didn't mean she resigned herself to let the matter slide, she just found another member of staff who it seems was more then willing to follow their senior member of staff around and note what they did and who they spoke to. Thanks to this little helper it wouldn't be long until she caught up to whatever it was they were really up to, although part of her whimpered at the thought that perhaps it was something worse than just trying to show her up.

It was these thoughts that she pushed to the back of her mind every night when Walter wrapped his arms around her and held her close, whispering how much he adored her as she drifted off to sleep, safe and content in his arms. Of course there had been other nights when the baby had finally quietened own and he tried to become overly friendly, it was those nights when he finally turned away from her in bed and she saw the look of barely contained frustration in his eyes that the doubts resurfaced, if he wasn't already having an affair how long would it be before he did?

So it was around nine when the now extremely contrary Mrs Corey descended from her boudoir to the servants quarters unwittingly passing through the lower gates of hell on her way to bedlam. Maids and footmen were scampering about in no discernable order, one carrying hot water the other hot sand, only managing to avoid scolding each other by the merest fractions of a second. However if she had thought it couldn't get any worse, the moment she marched into the servants hall she was proved wrong, it was utter anarchy, Walter was in the middle trying to solve a heated discussion between Felix, the grocer, Mrs Watson with at least a dozen permanent and temporary staff either clamouring for his of Mrs Watson's attention at the same time.

"QUIET!" Flora screamed at the top of her lungs, causing everyone even Walter to stop what he was doing immediately and glance over to her in shock. Then when she had everybody's full attention she spoke quietly but clearly. "All the women line up in front of me and the men over there and you can wait for Mr Jarvis to finish his business before bombarding him with questions. WELL MOVE!" She exclaimed after not one of them moved a muscle, the change was instant and everyone dashed to form a line as quickly and as silently as possible lest that death glare should fall on them alone.

"Well?" Flora snapped at the abashed looking Hettie who having faked tears had pushed to the front of the queue lined up in front of her.

"I was just asking Mrs Watson what we were supposed to do next, I mean it seemed a bit silly to start on the decorations before they had finished scrubbing and polishing the floor but that's what she said and I didn't want to cause more trouble but it just seemed like the wrong way to do things but she was too busy and told us to go find something to do but wouldn't tell us what and I just didn't want to get into more trouble Mrs Corey and then Mr Adams came in and yelled at us something awful before throwing us out the ballroom…."

"Enough!" Flora snapped, before stopping herself and placing a consoling hand on the young maid's shoulder whilst a fuming Molly could been seen glancing over her shoulder and shooting daggers at the young maid, obviously eager to march over and contradict her but being unable to escape from the row between Chef and grocer.

"It's alright Hettie I understand, why don't you take five of the housemaids and start work on polishing the grand staircase and dusting the family portraits, I want all the bronze sparkling and then I want the rest of you to systematically work through the bedrooms in the East Wing, lay the fires, turn the beds down and place fresh linen in the rooms. I expect this all to be done by eleven at the latest when I will be making my inspection. If you finish before then come and find me personally for fresh instructions I will not have this house fall to wrack and ruin just because I am indisposed." She added spitefully, making sure her voice was loud enough to carry across the room.

Five minutes later and not only had the housekeeper managed to regain order but she had found jobs for all the staff spotted hanging around, the men as well as the young ladies, although as Will had groused quite vocally he couldn't understand why she had put that new lad Charlie in charge of them. Fortunately for Fred Flora had been too busy making her way over to the other senior staff that she hadn't heard his rather lewd suggestion as to why the housekeeper was playing favourites.

"Well is anyone going to explain to me just why the house is falling apart whilst the rest of the senior staff stand here arguing?" Flora hissed quietly, her low pitched voice cutting through the now harsh squeaks of both Felix and Molly as they continued to blame each other for the mix up.

"It's her fault, stupid bloody incompetence!" Felix turned and screeched at Flora who took an instinctive step back at his harsh tone. "No I didn't mean you Flora…Mrs Watson!" He added his tone softening slightly as he beheld the hurt look on his friend's face. "She forgot to order half the things on my precise list!"

"I did not, I ordered everything that was on your stupid list well everything that was legible is it my fault you have a tendency to scrawl all over the page and write silly little comments in the corner and in Prussian, how am I supposed to tell the difference I'm not a mind reader?" Molly retorted brushing the loose locks of hair out of her tired eyes and rubbing the back her hand across her forehead, it was obvious to everyone she was exhausted but for once Flora couldn't bring herself to feel one ounce of pity.

"Well as I said before why the hell didn't you come and ask me…"

"ENOUGH!" Flora screeched at the top of her lungs before the pair could start again, however even the sheer volume startled her and she took a sudden step back her hand immediately flying to her stomach as if to reassure her child that everything was indeed alright.

"Yes my wife is indeed right that is enough from the pair of you, I have been listening to the same arguments for the last half an hour and we are still no closer to a solution!" Walter suddenly cut in closing the distance between him and his wife and wrapping a protective arm around her waist.

"Oh and you have been a great help I suppose?" Flora snapped pulling out of his grasp and placing herself between the two warring factions, holding her hand out for both lists of products Felix's first tatty and somewhat confusing list and then the neatly printed copy that Molly had made for the grocer. Immediately she spotted the discrepancy, after all it had taken her a few years to acclimatise herself with Felix's handwriting. "I see…..Yes so not enough rice ordered…I don't even know what these are Felix…So I doubt Mr Pritchard would have any in stock at any rate…But knowing you you will find someway of coping without…"

"BUT…"

"NO BUTS FELIX!" Flora cut back in. "If it's not here what else are you going to do…"

"That's what I have been trying to tell him Flora but…" Molly began but a cutting look from her superior stopped her in her tracks.

"Mrs Watson will you go wait for me in my office I will deal with this problem you have wrought on us by your incompetence and then we can discuss this properly." Flora cut in icily her eyes narrowing as Molly stepped back as if slapped.

"Yes Ma'am." Molly whispered pushing past Mr Jarvis without even a glance up to him for help.

"I'll just go supervise the footmen then shall I?" Walter asked when Molly had left and a tense silence had descended on the room.

"That sounds like an excellent idea Mr Jarvis unless of course you'd prefer his lordships party to be a complete and utter disaster?…Oh and Walter the next time there is a catastrophe of this nature will you please come and find me immediately instead of letting it fester we could have sorted out this out hours ago!" She added watching like a hawk as her husband slunk like a spurned puppy out the room with his tail firmly between his legs. "Now Felix lets be reasonable…."

"No its bad enough having to give up my kitchen to the interloper but I refuse to tell the great the almighty Joseph Le Monde when he finally arrives that half of his ingredients haven't turned up because of this incompetent woman…Why on earth did you leave her in charge Flora my dear such a error would never normally occur under your management."

"It wasn't exactly my choice…" Flora began softly patting Felix's arm soothingly before turning to the distressed Mr Pritchard. "Now Mr Pritchard you can see the bind we are in and Taplows has been loyal to you for many years isn't there anything you can do? I mean haven't you anymore in stock?"

"Well…." The scratty little man began rubbing the back of his neck as he shifted about from foot to foot a sure sign of a guilty conscience. "I did order a few more bags from Bristol when you placed your order, I mean you know what the village is like once the Earl starts a trend all the housewives are anxious to follow and…"

"And you were hoping to cash in?" Flora replied gently. "Would you be so kind to let us have your surplus, whatever you have and I would be most grateful, I would be willing to pay a tuppance per pound over the agreed price."

"Well in that case…." Pritchard whirled round waving one of his lads out to their cart. "I'll send Paul back to town directly….Is there anything else?"

"Well Felix?" Flora demanded whirling back the Chef. "Is there anything else you can use instead of those…Yac…Of those whatever things."

"Well yes if Mr Pritchard has some dried fruits, raisins and sultana's, oranges perhaps…."

"Well aye I do…Paul put them on the list…we'll have them back for you within the hour Mrs Ryan…Corey Ma'am …It's good to have you back in charge no disrespect to Missus Watson she's a fine little lady that one and so pretty and friendly…Maybe a bit firey sometimes but well what man doesn't like a bit of gumption in a woman…" Pritchard trailed off unable to hide the slight blush that had crept to his cheeks as he talked about the Scottish under-housekeeper.

"Yes thank you Mr Pritchard, if you could have those things delivered within the hour I would be eternally grateful."

"Aye Ma'am." Pritchard replied before striding out to his waiting cart.

"Flora what are you going to say to Mrs Watson?" Felix asked softly

"That my dear Felix is none of your concern, but for now I am going to let the drated woman stew in her own juices, I have a party to organise and too little time to do it in as it is!" And with that she turned and strode out of the servants hall a look of pure determination on her normally serene face, they thought they could do this without her well she'd show them all just how wrong they could be.

All to soon for the staff the beginning to the party arrived to their nightmare. Flora's maids had now shrunk back downstairs out of the main house, dreading Flora's reaction when she went to inspect their work. The footmen were now at their places in the courtyard, assisting the visitors arriving. They had all spent a large portion of their day keeping as well away from Adams' as possible. He was certainly not in his best of moods…though it wasn't really a secret why.

If William had thought earlier that Flora had been choosing favourites it was nothing to how her husband was organising the staff now. As usual he was landing the delighted William Forest with all the crappy jobs everyone tried to get out of. Jarvis had come to the conclusion that Will was from now on his skivvy…and there was no way he'd be going anywhere near any lords or ladies who were known to occasionally stick their hand in their large wallets.

A certain valet was having the easiest day of them all, he was enjoying watching the rest of staff dashing around hysterically here and there, as they tried their hardest to make this a do his lordship would be proud of. His charge had disappeared an hour of so earlier, after Frank offered him another bottle of brandy that evening. He had absolutely no idea where he was…and to be completely honest (for a change) he couldn't care less! Instead he'd quickly sort Grace out from the still room and dragged her up to the top of the stairs so they could observe the guests arriving out of sight.

"Frank, Mrs Corey will have a fit when she goes to the still room and realises I'm not there," Grace hisses, finding this observation incredibly boring and increasingly risky.

"Oh lighten up, Grace. She's too busy, she won't notice you've gone anyway. Besides my darling you deserve a break once in a while."

After finally convincing her that no one was going to catch them and that Mrs Corey probably had more important things on her mind than Grace's progress in the still room, Grace began to 'lighten up' slightly. Grace was just admiring the beauty of an entering Lady's dress, when the sight of another person entering caught her eye. Gasping slightly, she nudged Frank and pointed towards the 'Lady'. Immediately Frank burst out laughing, eyeing the lovely Cat up and down, before whispering to her, "She's obviously trying to fit in."

"Notice her husband isn't attending," Grace giggles slightly. They had been more than a few rumours going around recently about the state of Mr Postlebury's sanity.

"Well that is what happens if you marry someone like her…eventually you just can't take the strain." Grace sniggers into her hand, as they watch the Earl kiss her hand. Before whispering someone in her ear that made her giggle girlishly, tapping him on the arm.

"Urgh! Just watching her gives me the shivers. Do you think she's flirting with the Earl because she actually finds him attractive?" Grace mutters, in mild disgust. Frank was just about to answer when they heard a hiss from behind them.

"Oi Keneally, Jarvis has been looking for you. Someone about you finding Lord-Vomit-A-Lot and getting him out of the way. He'd string you alive if he knew you were up here." Huffing slightly, Frank pushed past Will angrily, beginning to walk down the stairs. Will glances at Frank for a moment then back at the almost beaming Grace. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" He hisses at her.

"Keep you wig on Will. I'll get back to work in a moment…"

"I wasn't talking about that," Will interrupts. "What are you doing flirting with Frank?"

"Why can't I?" She asks innocently.

"Because George has only been out of the way five minutes and your already shacking up with your ex."

"Frank and I are not 'shacking up'. He's being kind to me when I need him," Grace insists, glaring at Will. "Besides it's none of your business."

"Frank? Being kind? He's only kind when he wants something Grace! As you well know by now!" He hisses angrily, glancing around to check his voice wasn't travelling down the stairs.

"It's not for you to say what I do. Since when have you been so bothered about what I get up too?"

"George was a good mate of mine, and if he knew what you were doing with Frank he'd be kicking himself to do something about it. But he can't…" Will begins, only to be cut off by the sound of a loud crash somewhere below them and a shriek.

Remembering the mission Jarvis had sent him on to make sure Lady Mary was locked in her room, he ran down the stairs, praying that that certain Lady wasn't involved in all the commotion. He met Frank in the doorway who was staring into the room. It had gone deadly quiet now, as everyone stared in shock as they watched an utterly intoxicated Lord Julian and Lady Mary, who was wearing nothing more than a short curtain, barely covering her hairy knees swirl around the dance floor. Breaking apart from his dancing partner, Julian stumbled over to the dining table, intent of attempting to balance a bowl of fruit on his head.

Frank was just picturing the wonderful chaos as fruit covered the wall, when a certain new footman rushed forward. Whispering about his knowledge of a newly placed bottle of brandy in his lordship's room, he removed the bowl of fruit from his head and made sure it returned to it's rightful position on the table. Grasping Lady Mary's arm gently, he offered to escort her back to her room. Dazed she applied, and before any more disorder could be made, Charles was removing both Lord Julian and Lady Mary from the room.

Relieved Will and Frank glanced at each other. "Thank god that is all done and dusted," Frank muttered out of the corner of his mouth..

"Bloody hell yes, could you just imagine the look on old Jarvis' face if he had seen that," Will replied, the pair of them turning round to exit the room, stopping dead when they saw the butler standing in the doorway. "Uh-oh."

"I thought I asked you to make sure Lady Mary was nowhere near the party, Mr Forest? Am I wrong?" He hisses, as he leads the two men from the room and into the hallway. "Well?" He asks after no response from his footman.

"No sir, sorry sir," Will replied obediently.

"And where the hell do you think you've been Mr Keneally?…In fact I don't want to know. I'll be discussing this with you both when the party is over. Until then, Keneally I want you upstairs. Do not let his lordship out of your sight. As for you Mr Forest you can get your fat arse downstairs and out of my way. I don't want to see you for the rest of the night. Take the rest of the night off as on your next few days off your going to find yourself doing some very nasty work with me instead of voyaging into town. I'm going to personally see that you are going to make up for your absence tonight." Will's face falls as the impact of Jarvis' words sink in.

Noticing the smirk on Frank's face, Jarvis turns to him, "I don't know what you are smirking about, Mr Keneally as I'm docking your wages as well as his for the rest year if needs be. Now get out of you sight the pair of you." He hisses, putting on his best smile as he sees Charlie reappear. "Good work Mr Lewis. I assume both hazardous creatures are now out of the way?"

"Yes sir," He smirks, "I locked Lord Julian in his room for the moment sir and Lady Mary is now with Mrs Diggins."

"Very good. I hope you'll enjoy your new promotion to second footman," Jarvis beams, enjoying the look of Will's face as he says those words.

"Why thank you, Mr Jarvis," He smiles smugly at Will, who is looking daggers at him. The little bd, Will thought. So that was his game was it? Licking Jarvis' arse so he could nick his position, well he'd see about that.

It hadn't taken long for the news of Charles Lewis promotion to filter through the lower ranks, prompting if possible more of the maids to flutter their eyelashes at the newest and some would argue handsomest of the footmen especially after they saw him all decked out in his party uniform. However back in the footmen's room it wasn't the blueness of his eyes, of the strength of his jaw that was being debated, it was something very different indeed, the most effective way to teach a certain Charlie a much-needed lesson in humility.

"There has to be something!" Will hissed through his teeth as he watched Fred and Joe change into their adapted uniforms, fussing with the green satin sashes that was the only adornment over their bare shaved chests, a sabre at their sides and instead of the customary white wigs a complicated green and gold trimmed turban.

"Well can't it wait Will, I mean with you on carriage duty that leaves us and Charlie Farlie to do everything else so as much as I hate to admit it tonight we need the old stick in the mud!" Fred retorted whilst he posed in front of the mirror, flexing his muscles whilst holding in his stomach.

"And anyway he's not so bad Will." Joe added softly. "Jarvis had to make someone second footman, what with George and well you know…"

"Well it should have been one of you, you've been here longer and have got more experience!" Will snapped as he flung himself down the fireside chair.

"Yeah right like Jarvis is going to promote one of us, you know what he's like, he's fair enough but realistic, I mean who would ever employ a black under-butler let alone butler? So what's the point in promoting us?" Fred retorted bitterly before giving his turban one last adjustment.

"It's the principle!"

"Bollocks!" Joe piped up. "You're not worried about the principle you're worried about your own bloody hide, Jarvis likes Charles and he can't stand you its not difficult to see who he'd promote to under-butler given the chance…"

"Well fortunately that won't be happening this evening so get your lazy backsides upstairs there are guests going thirsty!" A strong Scottish baritone cut through the squabbling and all three lads whirled round to face their under-butler who stood in the doorway, barely containing their smiles as they took in his outfit which was similar to theirs but fortunately included a shirt, even if it was an unflattering gold colour.

"I see Mrs Watson got to you too Sir?" Will sniggered into his hand.

"You find something funny Mr Forest?" Adams hissed nodding to the others to get out as he advanced on the young footman, his hand automatically going to the hilt of the sabre that hung at his side, as both Joe and Fred scampered out the door shooting Will apologetic glances before leaving him alone with the under-butler.

"No Sir!" Will replied immediately trying desperately to keep a straight face but unable to keep the smile from tugging at his lips as he caught another glimpse of Adams in that turban.

"Do you ever utter a word that isn't a bloody lie?" Adams hissed leaning down until he was barely inches from Will's face.

"I wasn't lying Sir!" Will retorted, his eyes now locked on a spot over Adams's shoulder and so his face remained completely serious.

"Oh right just like you weren't lying when you said you'd leave my Lizzie alone?" Adams retorted his eyes bulging and flecks of spittle flicking onto the footman's face.

"I haven't done anything to Lizzie, we're friends, we always have been, I'd never do anything to hurt her or jeopardise that…"

"Oh so jumping into bed with her superior wasn't meant to hurt her?"

"Look that is none of your bloody business!" Will snapped, unable to keep his temper in check as he forcefully pushed the under-butler out of his space. "And its over and done with, why do you have to rake up old news?"

"Oh but it is my business, she's my daughter and so it'll always be my business…And that disgusting little thing you had for Mrs Corey may indeed be over but that doesn't seem to stop you rubbing my girls nose in it, I've seen you trying to cosy up to her since we got back. How dare you treat her like the consolation prize, you're a cad and scoundrel William Forest you go from woman to woman with barely a care. Why since I've known you it was first the little madam Esther who you dishonoured then abandoned, then that little scullery maid up in Scottish house you thought you'd kept quiet, countless whores over England, Europe and India, at least two of the Taplows laundry girls, then you upped your sights and bedded a housekeeper and older woman to boot before finally toying the feelings of my Lizzie. But I am telling you now I'll see you six feet under before I let you place one lecherous finger on my innocent wee girl, she deserves someone far better than you, and my only consolation in her leaving is that it will remove her from your contaminating presence."

"It's her choice!" Will hissed cutting Adams off mid flow.

"What did you say?" Adams gasped.

"I said it's her choice, if she wants to be with me nothing you can say or do will stop her or me…I've always cared for her more than I should and if she could see it in her heart to forgive me then…"

"You just stop right there boy!" Adams retorted. "I am warning you now before you even think of finishing that sentence, if I see you so much as exchanging more than two words with her then I will be more than delighted to provide his lordship with Taplows first eunuch!"

"Oh big words you wouldn't dare…You wouldn't want to disappoint your ladyship and besides we know too many of your dirty little secrets for you to risk it, sneaking off to visit your upper class whore and little bas…"

But Will never got the chance to finish that sentence as Adams kneed him viciously in the stomach before grasping his hair and holding his head back so he could glare him in the face. "Shut that stupid trap of your's!…Get your stinking carcass out in the yard and look after the other animals, see if they give a rat's arse for your posturing and self inflated ego!"

"Mr Adams!" A shrill and thoroughly unamused voice hissed from the doorway.

"Mrs Ry..Corey?" Adams retorted, loosening his grasp on Will's hair and moving to apparently clap the lad on the shoulder.

"Is there a problem?" Flora demanded whilst trying to find a hip to rest her hand on.

"No…No." Adams replied. "Just Will chocking on something so I lent a helping hand….all better now lad?" He hissed, his eyes narrowing as they locked on the footman's.

"Aye sir." Will wheezed, still winded from when Adams had kneed him.

"I see." Flora replied her eyebrow raised suspiciously as she surveyed the pair. "Well if that is all Mr Adams will you please go and see to the rest of the dinner platters, the chef's are about to serve up."

"Mr Kraus not diced and served Monsieur Le Monde in the curry?" Adams sniggered as he moved towards the door.

"No…Not yet anyway but I wouldn't been surprised if the pair end up wearing each other's creations before the night is out." Flora replied jovially waving the under-butler on his way before turning and glancing concerned at the young footman. "You really alright Will?"

Still uncomfortable speaking Will simply nodded, moving back to his chair as he rubbed his sore stomach.

"Here this should help." Flora muttered moving over to the table and pouring him a glass of water before leaning against the table next to him, rubbing her own hands over her large belly wincing slightly as her child retaliated for her missing both lunch and her afternoon nap.

"Giving you hell already?" Will muttered nodding over at her belly.

"You could say that, already taking after it's father I would say, hasn't stopped all day much like Walter who hasn't stopped nagging!" Flora snorted. "Still it won't be long now."

"So you haven't just got a few cushions stuffed up there then, cause me and the lads were wondering…" Will sniggered, choking slightly on his water, earning him a sharp pat on the back from the housekeeper.

"Definitely not!" Flora snorted. "Here see for yourself…" She added grasping his hand and laying it over the spot where the baby had kicked only moments before. "Just wait a minute….There you go, show me a cushion that can do that?"

"Bloody hell, you got a little runner in there or what?" Will gasped flinching in surprise when the baby kick again and this time he could have sworn he saw a tiny foot shape distorting the fabric of Flora's dress. "Definitely give Fred a run for his money that one."

"In a few years perhaps." Flora chuckled rubbing her stomach reassuringly. "Well I should be off still got a hundred things to do."

"Can't Moll…Mrs Watson do them I mean no offence Flora but you look beat."

"No she cannot, Mrs Watson and I had a few terse words this morning but all this debacle has only gone to convince me she is far from capable of taking over completely, and although I may have been a little harsh at the time I didn't say anything that wasn't true."

"What happened? I thought you two were friends…" Will began offering the housekeeper his arm as he escorted her back to her office.

"So did I but if she thinks I am just going to let her walk in and take away everything I have worked for and then make a bulls up of the whole thing whilst I take the blame then she's got another thing coming!" Flora hissed. "Just who the hell does she think she is?"

"Your deputy perhaps?" Will replied softly and hesitantly as he opened the door. "Who was just trying to help out her friend in a difficult time but got slapped on the wrist for the trouble?"

"I might have over reacted slightly but she almost cost us all…But then if I hadn't let Walter persuade me to leave her in charge in the first place, I should have known it would be too much for her." Flora retorted, moving over to her desk and fiddling nervously with the mountain of paperwork that still needed sorting.

"We're all only human…" Will whispered trying to manoeuvre the reluctant housekeeper over to a chair and finally succeeding before continuing. "Well most of us anyway, she probably got in out of her depth but didn't want to worry you or humiliate herself."

"She should have said something sooner it could have been a disaster and I would have taken the blame, the Earl would have sacked me for sure if his grand affair had been ruined, but she didn't seem to care…Or…" Flora trailed off a look of suspicion and worry on her normally serene face.

"Or what?"

"Or that was the intention all along!" Flora whispered softly looking down at her clenched hands before continuing her voice wavering tellingly. "I mean shouldn't I be suspicious when my husband keeps disappearing with my deputy to go inspect store cupboards, cellars and attics; when I ask to sit in on meetings I'm told not to worry and to go and lie down; when I wake up early in the morning and Walter has already disappeared off somewhere and avoids answering my questions when I ask why? What conclusion prey would you draw, especially considering …"

"Considering?" Will asked.

"Considering he isn't receiving that soft of comfort from his loving wife and so it's been seven very long months since they…Well you know."

"Ahhh…" Will trailed off uncomfortably, tugging at his collar and trying to work out how the hell he had gotten himself into this mess.

"Combine that with the fact I know Molly is seeing someone, and before you start it isn't Joe! He couldn't have afforded those flowers or that trinket box, and I know damn well they weren't from Andrew I think I know him well enough by now and the only woman he shows the slightest bit of consideration is you know who. I don't think he even brought Lizzie something back and if he had found a present he thought he had lost surely he would have given it to her and not Molly…"

"You would think so but that doesn't mean Molly is…well you know… with Mr Jarvis?" Will replied cagily. "He loves you and he'd have to be an idiot to do that ag…"

"Again?" Flora retorted softly. "That was what you were going to say wasn't it Will?"

"Well we all heard what Frank said at the wedding…I mean normally he says a load a rubbish but the look on your face said something else…You believed him didn't you, so that must have meant you had your own suspicions?" Will gulped.

"I would be lying if I said I didn't, but Walter swore to me it was a one off and that it didn't go all the way and that he would never do it again…Besides its not like I was on the moral high ground to start with was I? But I really thought he meant it, a fresh start for all of us, but if he's seeing Molly behind my back then I don't think I could forgive him again." Flora trailed off her fingers idly trailing over a crisp white envelope she hadn't noticed before.

"I really should be going, but if you need to talk again…Or perhaps need someone to give Jarvis a good kneecapping then well…"

"I know who to come to, thank you Will." Flora whispered smiling softly as the footman shuffled out the room as quickly as he could before turning her attention back to the envelope. Frowning slightly she seized her letter opener and sliced it open, her eyes widening as she recognised the handwriting, it was from Molly and she was….Offering her resignation!

Cursing underneath his breath for the umpteenth time that hour, Will hid his inner frustration with an aching grin, nodding curiously as Lord and Lady whoever they were left his company, sweeping through the grand oak doors into the house, and thankfully, out of his charge. His sigh of relief was predictably cut short as on turning around, he was met with the painfully familiar sight of yet another carriage drawing to a halt in the courtyard. His only saving grace, was the hope, as he trudged over to attend its occupants, that they couldn't possibly be as ghastly as their predecessors. Once again this wish was shattered as he heard the most ear-piercing and overly overt sound of what could only be described as a cackle, coming from inside. Will physically shook with repugnance as he knew exactly to whom that noise belonged – Lady Frances fforbes-Wilmason, an insufferable old hag, as wide as she was tall - who'd just so happened to have inherited an estate that made Taplows look like a cattle shed – no doubt with her equally gormless son, the idiot boy who stood to inherit his mother's fortune, if ever she finally dropped of her perch – or more likely it collapsed from under her – before him, but with his sickly constitution, that didn't look very much likely.

It hook three good heaves from Edward and three arm wrenching pulls from Will (who frankly, may as well have been on his own there) to get her out of the carriage – which begged the question, how on earth did she get in there in the first place? Once she was safely on solid ground and Edward had extra cautiously (in case he broke a leg again) slipped down out of the carriage, Will stood back to take them in. There was no way on earth anyone who didn't know them (which wasn't many in the country, with her bolshy attitude) would place these two as mother and son, they couldn't be more opposite.

One could only assume the boy, now reportedly seventeen (going on seven), took after his father, a Naval Captain by all accounts, though neither Will, nor anyone else had ever seen him, though there was rumour that he'd died many moons ago, before his son was born, some said funnily enough, nine months before he was born! The recollection of this old yarn brought a smile to Will's face, which soon shifted, as when reaching back into the carriage, to retrieve her rhino-skin evening bag, he caught sight of one of the most horrifying images imaginable – her sari was a two piece, obviously she'd grown further since the last fitting (which couldn't have been that long ago, the Earl only having sent the invites out the previous week), as a result, at certain angles it no longer managed to cover her most ample of waistlines, currently displaying a full midriff.

Will averted his eyes instantly (though the memory would stay with him indefinitely), which was noted by Edward, who turned, his eyes almost popping out of his hagged face as he too registered his mother's exposed form. Immediately he dived to her aide, tugging at the top half of her set. 'Not now darling!' she cursed 'Mummy's trying to reach her purse!'

'But mother!' he wined, persisting to yank down her top.

Before any one of them knew what was happening, the old woman moved her free arm at a rate Will never knew she could, brushing her son aside. However, it soon became apparent that she hadn't just brushed him side, as there was a sharp thud against the carriage door, before the poor lad sunk to the cobbles, with a rather girly shriek. He hauled his head up, visibly dazed, clearly not having noticed the blood streaming from his nose. 'Mu….mummy!' he cried.

'I said not now sweetums!' she hollered, dragging her head out of the carriage, her face like thunder clouding even further with confusion, as her son no longer appeared to be there. 'Eddie! Eddie schnookums, where ar- ohhhh!' she screamed, the blood draining from her face as she looked down to see her son covered in blood, whom she reached out to, unable to throw herself down to him due to her titanic size. 'My poor baby!'

'Do allow me your ladyship' Will offered instinctively, instantly regretting the thought of having that invalid's blood all over him, Lord knows what kids of infection he'd picked up over the years if that immune system was anything to go by. Nevertheless, it was too late now, he reached down and dragged the boy - currently doing the most convincing imitation of a rag doll he'd ever seen – up off the floor, flinging his arm over his shoulder, before continuing 'Should we get him to the house quickly?'

'Yes, yes of course!' the now panicking woman cried, 'Send for the Doctor, he's very sensitive you know!'

'He's very something…' Will muttered, as Edwards head lolled to one side, smearing blood all over his over jacket – just what he bloody needed, why the hell couldn't Jarvis have stuck to his word and banished him to the servants quarters for the night? Sure he would have made the next few days a living hell for the current, though he feared not for much longer, First Footman, but at least Will could now be consoling himself with whatever stray liquor was hanging around the kitchen, and right now he would have given anything to have a few days hard labour ahead of him, instead of having to pander to this nancy-boy and his titan of a mother.

As they staggered into the entrance hall, Will hissed to Johnny, who was currently on his usual and non-too taxing job of taking peoples coats', to cover for him whilst he escorted Lady fforbes-Wilmason and her son to their rooms. Johnny jumped up off his stool (that he had strangely began carting around everywhere with him, as it was the only thing he actually owned), looking like he'd just been made butler, and scurried off out to tend the never ending line of dignitaries.

The next half an hour was simply an extension of what had gone before, only for a few moments, Will had two casualties to deal with, as Lady Frances so giddy with worry she appeared to be slipping in and out of consciousness, her hissy fit too intense for the good old smelling salts to contend with, all the while the blood continued to gush from the now even more crooked nose of her offspring. Just when Will was starting to think the lad hadn't a drop left in him, it suddenly stopped, just as well, he'd gone through an entire draw of handkerchiefs, a moment later and Will would have been forced to start on the bed sheets – which would have led to a day in the laundry, what with his jacket needing to be soaked for several hours, no doubt they'd make him buy a new one out of his own pocket if he couldn't get the stain out.

When all had calmed down and the dinner bell had rung for the third and final time, the fforbes-Wilmasons, looking as well as they possibly could, headed off back down the stairs to join the party, no doubt their peers knew they were on their way what with her bounding down the corridor, they were all probably glancing up at the ceiling, taking bets on which chandelier would be the first to go.

However, this mother and son duo weren't the only ones were making a late entrance, as he strolled down the corridor, he spied Lady Rebecca in full Indian attire, thankfully in a most well-fitting sari, emerging from her room. What he didn't expect to see was her lady's maid shortly following her, also dressed for the occasion. Lady Caroline had insisted that if indeed the lady's maids were to be required at any time, they should at least look the part, although certain members of staff were obviously intended to be exempt from this, Mrs Diggins had been most uncharacteristically enthusiastic about the idea, the others left to fear that she would literally throw her whole weight behind it.

'You don't think its too … too revealing do you?' Lady Rebecca asked as she studied her form in one of the hallway mirrors.

'No of course its not, it fits you perfectly!' Lizzie reassured her, smoothing down her a-line skirt, undoubtedly made of the richest silk England had to offer, Mrs Thornfield the finest seamstress in the West country truly had surpassed herself this time. 'Now here, the finishing touch.' She added, lifting a exquisitely crafted head-dress to her mistress' brow, its veil the precise colour of her crimson and gold outfit.

'You don't think its too soon do you?' Rebecca questioned, with a look of total sincerity on her face.

Initially Lizzie thought to herself perhaps, but she of all people knew how hard her Ladyship had grieved for her child and that donning this perfectly tasteful costume would not lessen that in any way. Taking Rebecca's hands, she answered faithfully 'Certainly not, you deserve this night, this time to enjoy the company of others, theres nothing wrong in that – you look absolutely beautiful … stunning' she corrected herself.

A few paces down the hall, those exact same words, along with a multitude of more amorous thoughts were running through Will's head, though the focus of these and his unblinking stare, was on the speaker. Of course her sari was not as extravagant as her Mistress', but it well excelled it in simple elegance, she looked heavenly in her ivory and green robes, the green with the same intricate gold embroidery as on Fred and Jo's sleeveless jackets. She had no head-dress of her own, but she really didn't need it, she was quite literally perfect as she was.

'Do you think Rufus Gannon could resist me?' Rebecca joked, tossing her veil back.

'Ahhh, but could you resist him?' Lizzie teased.

'What with his athletic build, boyish good looks and genius acumen!' Rebecca retorted, unable to stifle her giggles. 'Oh you will come down shortly wont you? I don't know how much of this I'm going to be able to stand, think I'll make my presence felt, followed by a hasty exit after desert – if they have them in India!'

'Ill do my best, just depends how restless the little one is.'

'Give him another kiss goodnight from me would you?' she cooed, glancing lovingly over Lizzie's shoulder to his crib.

'I think two dozen was quite enough … but one more for luck!'

'Ooooh, wish ME luck!'

'Don't worry, with the deathly stares my father will be giving him, Im sure he'll get some form of message that he's not welcome!'

'Its not a message that man needs, it's a bullet to the head!' Rebecca called out, obviously joking, though thankfully no-one else was to be seen, as she dashed off down towards the grand staircase.

'Don't tempt him!' Lizzie spoke aloud as partially hung off the door frame, watching Rebecca turn the corner out of sight.

'Don't tempt me.' A low and rasping voice came from behind her.

Gripping the door frame, she gradually pivoted round, her eyes following her body's lead, gradually revealing more and more of him – his arm, his shoulder, his neck, his chin, finally she looked up to see him looking at her in a way he hadn't in months, infact, she wasn't so sure he ever had. For one time-defying moment they simply stood there, inches apart, locked in each others gaze, the only thing missing was the sensation of each others breath against the other's flushed cheeks, neither letting out the gasp of air they'd inhaled almost a minute ago – until Hugo's lungs exhaled rather loudly, with his usual uncanny timing.

'You'd better…' he trailed off as she broke their stare.

'I'd better …' she replied, but something still grounded her to the spot.

'Shall I?' he offered after a few moments deliberation.

'No no!' she insisted, scurrying over to the stirring infant. 'Don't be silly!'

'Can I at least see him?' he questioned light-heartedly, cautiously treading over the threshold.

Looking up from the bassinette having scooped her aggravated little brother up into her warm embrace; Lizzie had to gauge his expression, just to check he was actually being serious, before nodding, after making a mental note that no one would know as they were all down stairs.

Will tiptoed more quietly and softly than he'd ever done in his life over to the two of them, lifting his shaking hand to gently stroke the top of Hugo's head with his forefinger. 'Wow, he's so soft!' he remarked, his head shooting up to catch the half amused, half scared look on Lizzie's face. 'What! I've never seen one of these close up!' he berated her.

'Do you want to hold him?'

Hesitating for a few seconds, letting his laddish front drop for an instant, Will stared at the child in her arms. 'Nah, you know me, butter fingers!'

She gave him a rather unconvinced look.

'You know me Liz, Jarvis wont even leave Jarvis with me anymore, he thinks me loosing him is just an excuse.'

'Funny, coz that's what this sounds like!'

'To be honest, babies, not really my thing (this reeeeeeally doesn't sound too good he thought to himself) … well, not while Im still the biggest kid around!'

She looked at him, and he knew, he knew she wasn't buying it, she didn't have to say anything, she knew he knew she knew, that was good enough for now 'Well, does my little brother have the William Forrest seal of approval?' she countered.

'Well, don't take this the wrong way, but he's definitely the looker of the family!'

'Oi you!' she scolded, unable to give Will a playful punch, as if she dropped him, Hugo certainly wouldn't be sitting pretty then, well, not that he could sit up at such an age. 'Don't let my father hear you calling him ugly!'

'Oh don't worry, Ive got a few other words for him, but not in front of the little one, eh?'

'What, I thought you two were getting on better these days?'

'We've never got on Liz, probably never will if he keeps on with these bloody "Not my daughter lectu-"' he stopped, mid- sentence, realising he'd just opened a rather large can of beans.

'Not my daughter?' she enquired, giving him a knowing, yet semi-surprised glance.

Feeling totally exposed, wishing he'd just kept it shut, Will stammered 'Gosh, is that the time?

'Will?'

'Im sorry Liz, but if Jarvis, or your dad catch me-'

'Wiiiiiiiiiiiilllllllllllllllllll!'

'Up here, then bloody Charlie Lewis is gonna get his thieving little hands on my job!' he finished, subconsciously planting a kiss on her cheek before dashing out the door.

'Get right back here, William For-!' she started shouting; realising that even without babe-in-arms her catching him wasn't exactly a safe bet. Sighing to herself as she rocked her ironically now sleeping brother, Lizzie decided to give him a word of sisterly advice 'Don't be a heartbreaker.' Placing a loving kiss on his baby soft forehead.

"...and after all that effort the blighter didn't even die, it took two more bullets to finish him off, the stubborn devil!"

Rufus Gannon's captivated audience laughed raucously, except for Lady Rebecca who curled her lip and rolled her eyes in disgust and boredom. She couldn't believe it was still only pre-dinner drinks - well, more like elaborate cocktails but with the sweetest fragrance and taste. This at least made the company a little more bearable. Rufus was still talking. Continuous chatter about India and his third best, then second best and finally greatest kill in the great jungles while Lord Farquarson grinned at him as if he were his proud father. What a load of utter rot Rufus was talking, Rebecca thought as she turned her back on him and his ridiculous outfit. She wondered whether he had actually ever been to the country, let alone wrestled a wounded tiger to the ground. His stories were so over the top but everyone seemed to be buying them, including her father and the Earl.

Lady Fforbes-Wilmason was gushing over him, fluttering her eyelashes and flirting, but she was so _old_ it made Rebecca's skin crawl. He was hardly that good-looking either, she had to admit he had a certain presence about him, he was fairly tall but his lack of other physical attributes was made up for through his loud personality. _He_ might have thought it something women would find alluring but Rebecca was struggling to spot the merest hint of chemistry between them. He had a certain reputation amongst the landed gentry; a cad made good through New Money, his fortune based on luck rather than ability. Rufus Gannon was seen as a schemer and no less than a con artist than Fiffington-Piffles in the circles which mattered, and it only took one glance at Monty - stood at the back of the room perched up against the window - to see his distaste for the man.

Suddenly Rufus became more animated as he recalled the exact moment he came face to face with what he described as 'the biggest bloody beast' he had ever seen. The under-butler had tactically placed himself in a perfect spot for watching Gannon's every move, nodding at Fred and Joe to refill empty glasses with the potent mixture Monsieur Le Monde had concocted. To everyone's surprise the eccentric entrepreneur burst through the suitably attired crowd gathered around him and leapt onto one of the Earl's Georgian couches as his story unfolded. Adams tutted under his breath as Rebecca spun round and stared at Rufus in shock. Will this bloody idiot do _anything_ to capture her attention!

"And then I saw him!" Rufus exclaimed, crouching as his turban slipped crooked. His eyes were wide and wild as bemused - and amused - faces fixed their stares on him. "Here I was, perched high upon my elephant, alone..."

_Alone_ , Rebecca thought raising an eyebrow, how convenient for him.

"...night was falling quickly and I could hear the sound of a King Cobra hissing in the undergrowth..."

Gasps of amazement rippled amongst the guests and Lady Fforbes-Wilmason flushed and feigned a light-headed gasp as she flopped her frame into a chair which groaned in submission.

"...He is one of the most feared creatures in all of India, but I, Rufus Gannon, had bigger fish to fry that night!

Only a few days earlier I had wrung a cobra by its neck after it foolishly tried to bite me, but that's another story. Anyway, imagine it. Here I was, surrounded by poisonous snakes, scorpions and spiders, and with a huge male tiger pacing through the trees. I jumped from my faithful elephant!" Without warning Rufus sprang off the couch, rolled over on the floor as guests scattered until he stopped, snatching up a poker from beside the fireplace and lying flat on his stomach, the poker stretched out in front of him. He lowered his voice to a whisper as he 'aimed' the poker at the tigerskin rug, its head still attached, which was the main attraction in the room. (Jarvis had called the thing 'distasteful' after His Lordship had purchased it, hoping that he wouldn't insist on a permanent home for it in the drawing room, or at worst the hallway, but luckily it had been banished to one of the smaller, unused guest rooms. Until tonight, that was.)

Rufus was either re-living the moment or he loved putting on an elaborate show. Through her cynicism Rebecca suspected the latter, especially as he had the reputation for rather loud and altogether indecent parties. Adams scowled furiously. "And there we were, eye to eye, and by jove he was angry! My elephant bolted, leaving me to face the tiger and with no means to escape. I raised my rifle-.." Rufus shut one eye. "...lined him up in my Sight and cocked my weapon-..."

Rebecca sniggered childishly to herself but luckily nobody heard. Something told her that even if it was ready and loaded he didn't have much of a weapon to cock.

Rufus raised his voice slightly for dramatic effect as everyone surrounded him, but Monty stayed well back, shaking his head. "But it was then I realised, in my foolish bravery, that my rifle was bulletless! So keeping as still as possible, the beast prowling in front of me as he bared his blood-stained teeth, I reached into the pouch on my belt. But...then..IT WAS TOO LATE!" In a sudden, swift movement Rufus dived forward, still keeping hold of the poker but grabbing the rug and wrestling with it, crying out as he carried on his story in a crazed roar.

"He had leapt on me, his claws slashing at me as I struggled underneath his great belly, I thought I was about to die, but then I thought NO! This wasn't the fearless Rufus Gannon I knew and loved, so I hit him in the face with my gun to try to stun him, but he kept trying to bite me, his breath hot in my face and wreaking of rotting meat. My clothes were torn, my arms gashed and bleeding, but I kept on hitting!" Rufus thumped the defenceless rug, smashing it square on the nose as the Earl gave a small yelp of dismay. "Then, suddenly, the vicious beast fell limp, and I saw my chance. Pushing his unconscious body from me I struggled from underneath and scrambled to my feet." Rufus did just that, casting the rug aside and stepping back in 'terror' as he pointed the poker at the rug's lifeless form. "But then, ladies and gentlemen, to my horror the beast awoke and roared, but I was too swift for the fellow as I pushed the bullets into the barrel at lightening speed, aimed and BANG!" Rufus pulled an imaginary trigger. "I fired. The recoil nearly threw me backwards but I stood my ground as I pierced the tiger's skull, killing it instantly!"

A ripple of applause spread throughout the gawping aristocrats as Rufus took a bow. Rebecca managed to stifle her second laugh at the thought of Rufus running away in terror from a sleepy tiger cub, almost wetting himself in fear as he tried to scramble onto his elephant but instead landing face-down in the mud. She was jolted from her musings by Rufus as he approached her, brushing down his costume. Towards the door, Adams visibly stiffened in silent rage.

"My Lady." He beamed, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. Rebecca forced a weak smile and pulled her hand away. "May I say how beautiful you are looking this evening."

"That was a very-interesting tale, My Lord." She said silkily, ignoring his compliment and avoiding repaying the gesture. Rufus grinned boyishly. It was highly ironic that his next move was to click his fingers in Adams' direction and indicate to his glass for a refill, but the under-butler hardly needed much encouragement to make his way over.

"You were obviously most brave." Rebecca continued as Adams made only the briefest of eye contact with her. She knew her father was watching, she could tell he saw this buffoon as a love match for her. Rufus puffed out his chest. Feigning a sincere nod Rebecca frowned, her voice high and innocent. "But tell me, Rufus - if I may call you that - your scars must be awful from such a vicious attack, are they not? May I see?"

Rufus' smile fell and he gulped. He shot Adams a glare, as if he were to blame for the unexpected request. "Whatever your name is, could you stand further away! Thank you!"

Adams did as requested, content that Rebecca had a firm grasp of the situation. He would expect no less of her, but a niggling feeling told him that she had an awful lot to do to get rid of him for good.

Rufus lowered his voice as Rebecca cocked a well manicured eyebrow. "Well," he began, glancing furtively around for onlookers. "Funny you should mention scars. It is hard to believe, I know, but I was _cured_ after the attack. I told you my elephant had bolted - well, I walked to the nearest village for help and there was a-a-" He mouthed his next words: WITCH DOCTOR!

Rebecca's nose wrinkled in disbelief but she bit her lip and pretended to be amazed. "My goodness, how incredible! But aren't they-..?"

"Evil?" Rufus whispered. "Yes, that's what I thought, but I was close to unconsciousness at this point and was grateful for any help. D'you know what the last thing I remember was?"

Rebecca shook her head.

"A man leaning over me as I lay on the bare earth - but not _any_ man, a man wearing a necklace made of animal bones, he even had a bone through his nose! He said to me 'I will cure you, oh stranger in our midst', but then I blacked out!" Rufus leaned in close so his lips were only inches away from Rebecca's ear. "He must have done something curious to me, that's for sure, because when I awoke my cuts were gone, no scarring, it was as if I had never been attacked!"

"How convenient." Rebecca gasped. "I mean, how convenient he was there to help you, what a relief it must have been, especially as you had nobody with you, hunting on your own must have been frightening - but oh so brave." She was so bored with this fop she could have cried. What an insult to her intelligence he was, she wondered how he ever made a single penny let alone a fortune. She was sure next thing he would do would be to write his memoirs and fill it with any old story which popped into his head.

"But please don't tell anyone about it." Rufus pleaded, touching Rebecca's arm in what she considered to be a very inappropriate manner. "If people knew they may think-well-."

That you're a fraud, Rebecca thought, but at that moment her father stepped towards them, clapping Rufus on the back and thus ending their rather strange conversation. She was sure she saw a fleeting look of relief on Lord Gannon's face, but when Rebecca made an impromptu move towards the door so she could utter a few words of reassurance to the father of her child, Lord Farquarson darted - as best he could - after her, leaving Rufus looking somewhat dejected

"Where the hell d'you think you're going, girl!" Farquarson demanded, grabbing his daughter's arm and swinging her round to face him as she swept out of the room. "Get back in there and talk to Rufus!"

Rebecca glared in horror at such an order. "I thought I heard Hugo crying, he's probably hungry!"

Farquarson snorted. "It is impossible that you could hear him from this distance, don't tell lies, I know what you're up to my darling daughter, but believe me you will find another husband if it kills me, it's what Hugo would have wanted!"

"You have no idea what Hugo would have wanted!" Rebecca cried, breaking free from his grasp, her eyes blazing a determined fury. "And I don't want another husband, certainly not the sort you would have me marry! Don't look at me like that, all shocked, I'm a grown woman – a _widow_ - with a young son! I don't need my father interfering with my life, you can have the money I'm not entitled to if you so wish!"

Adams had hidden himself inside a conveniently built recess, his heart thumping so wildly he was sure that they could hear it. He knew Jarvis would be wondering where he had got to if he was missing for too long, but he was now stuck – he couldn't slide out as Lord Farquarson's alarm bells would ring so loudly he would be out of Taplows on his backside quicker than he could offer the old fart another tot of whiskey. He was desperate to defend his Rebecca, he knew she could do a good job of it on her own but he felt it was his duty to at least try to offer her some sort of protection.

Farquarson puffed his cheeks out, his eyes narrowing. "You know it's not to do with the money, it's to do with you and your welfare! Don't you want Hugo to have a father? He needs a man's influence, and he won't get it if he's suck on the McKenzie estate away from the entire world now will he? And he is to have a male tutor, a governess will not do!"

"Father! Don't you think it's a bit early to be talking about tutors, he's only a few days old! It's just typical of you to have everything mapped out like this, I wager you have made arrangements for this already, behind my back, keeping secrets!" Rebecca fumed as she turned and stormed away, her luxurious sashes draping about her arms. Monty appeared at the doorway and Adams felt a sense of relief on hearing his voice. He was a good man, Adams thought, just a shame about that abominable wife of his.

"Cecil." Monty began, stepping towards the old Lord and staring after Rebecca in concern. "Maybe she is right…."

"Poppycock!" Farquarson's chin was quivering and Monty thought for one horrifying moment he would burst into tears, but the sadness in his eyes turned as hard as iron, boring through Monty. He lowered his voice to a hushed whisper, but the unexpected tone sent shivers up Lord Hamilton-Hussey's spine as Adams' jaw fell open in adrenaline-fuelled shock. "Don't you talk to me about what is right and what is not, Montgomery, I'm no bloody fool even if you treat my daughter like one. You scald and mock Rufus when you have no idea about what is right….!" He trailed off as if trying to bite his tongue but his son-in-law didn't relent. Instead Monty squared his leaner build up to the stocky build of the old man, a steely determination masking his sense of worry.

"Well, do continue Cecil, what could you be referring to?"

Farquarson waited a moment until a few late arrivals filed through the hallway, laughing and joking. One shouted a greeting to Monty and he responded with a weak smile and a wave as Will ushered them into the room. Farquarson turned back to spit his parting words, his expression even colder. "If you weren't my daughter's husband I could ruin you, she has confided in me, about your….your indiscretions! And I know that your whore is under this roof. Just watch your step, Montgomery, stay out of my business with Rebecca and I'll stay out of yours. Or you may find that entry into Parliament if further away than you may have imagined."

A deathly silence followed the old man's disclosure, each party taking a metaphorical step back to register just what had been said. Rebecca, who'd ground a halt was deeply shocked – Monty an adulterer! But he was so noble, so upstanding, so … surely not! However, her attitude changed dramatically in the space of a few seconds as once her initial astonishment had subsided, she found she could fully understand, perhaps even congratulate her brother-in-law for having gone elsewhere to find comfort, she knew better than anyone (well, except perhaps Monty himself) what her sister was like, the hell she had put this man through.

For the man in question, time stood as still as he did, not moving an inch, he had no idea of what to do next, fearing that if Cecil was true to his word, the next move he'd be making would be on the long road back to Scotland, back to his loving wife and her children, hundreds of miles away from Westminster, hundreds of miles away from … Molly – my god, what is this going to do to her, to them!

Lord Farquason stood firm, his upper lip twitching furiously, glaring at Monty, resolute in the allegations he had just laid down, certain as Monty now was on looking him in the eye, that he'd be prepared to see them through, to protect his daughter, both of his daughters from being tainted by association with such a man, not to mention the social outrage his behaviour would surely invoke if it were exposed.

As Cecil went to remind him of that fact, Rebecca having tiptoed back from the doorway, noting it was her turn to step up to defend Monty, swiftly inched closer to her father, cautiously moving to lay her hand on his arm as she subtly growled through her teeth 'Father, this is neither the time or the pl-'

'Place? This is not your place my girl!' he snarled, grasping her arm once more, pulling her further out into the foyer, away from prying eyes, out of Rufus Gannon's sight for just long enough to reiterate his sentiments 'You are in no position to talk to me about place, your place – now that you are unfortunately without, or should I say, between husbands - is as my daughter, and believe me my child, as long as that is the case, you will do as I say!'

Wrenching her throbbing arm from his iron grasp, her beautiful face showing her pain, tears now welling in her eyes, gulping back the torrent of emotion stirred up by her father's cruel, taunting words, she simply replied, desperately shaking her head 'Never!'

'Im warning you my girl!' he hissed, so dangerously low, Adams instinctively stepped out of his hiding place (which thankfully was behind her now incandescent father), towards his love, catching her eye for a second, in that short time giving her the strength to speak up.

Her frame shaking like a leaf, but her heart and head beating faster then they ever had before, she took a step forward, looked her father straight in the eyes, which were betraying his steadfast expression, before continuing most sincerely 'No, I will NEVER marry that deceitful, dim-witted, repulsive excuse of a man'.

Looking like he'd been knocked for six-dozen let alone six, Lord Farquason, thoroughly unaccustomed to being spoken to in such a manner, being defied so openly, least of all by his own daughter, physically shook with fury. Meanwhile, Adams and Monty exchanged fearful glances as neither Farquason was prepared to back down, or even look away.

Suddenly, what sounded like a whimper came from the father before he fumed 'Then may God help you Rebecca, because I…' he trailed off, turning his back on her, only to see Adams standing directly behind him, which was the final straw. Before anyone else knew what was happening he'd swung back round, lunging at his daughter, who was too startled to cry out.

Luckily, she was standing so close to the foot of the staircase, that as she stepped back to protect herself, her heels caught on the step, and falling back, his sweeping hand missed her by inches. No sooner had she hit the carpeted stairs, her father was being dragged back by Andrew, and Monty dashed forward to help her to her feet.

'YOU, you get your bloody hands off me!' he hollered at Adams, whom, whilst Rebecca was still within swinging distance, was about to do no such thing, no matter how many guests were now flowing into view through the doorway. After the nod from Adams, Fred, Joe and for some reason Frank all jumped into action, pulling the double door to, before keeping the guests' glasses full, one or two refusing to be distracted, if only momentarily.

When they again attained some privacy, Monty whispered earnestly into her ear 'Rebecca, are you alright?'

'Yes, yes of course' she stammered, looking in somewhat of a daze beyond her father to see Adams' horrified grimace 'I'm fine, Im fine' she spoke quickly and quietly, nodding nervously, giving him a feeble yet heart-warming smile to appease his concerns and desire to do something whilst he may not regret, certainly would do him no good.

'You go back to the party, I'll sort him out.' Monty offered, slowly releasing her, the focus of his scathing expression remaining on her tormentor.

After a quick glance over her father's shoulder at Andrew, who gave her the nod, and despite being visibly shaken, she did as she was told, slipping through the doors into the ballroom.

'I might have bloody known you'd sick up for her, whats the matter, your bit of rough not- '

'Don't you dare speak about her like that!'

'But that's exactly what she is Montgomery, commoner than muck, and the sooner you realise that your involvement with the little scrubber is going to cost you your seat, the better, and mark my words …' he paused for a second as he noticed the doors opening out of the corner of his eye, quickly continuing '… if you disgrace my youngest daughter, if it's the last thing I do, I'll personally see to it that you never set foot into Parliament!'

Glancing over his shoulder, he was most aggrieved to see a rather odd, yet highly recognisable ensemble of the usual gossips, clearly having heard the latter section of his rant. He looked from a reeling Monty to a fuming Adams, the sight of these two thorns in his side made his blood boil, so much so that he let out an exasperated grunt, before charging up the stairs to the comfort of his real Scotch whiskey.

However, on trundling down the hallway, his chest tightened even further, on catching sight of a footman hastily removing himself from his insolent daughter's bedroom. On opening his eyes after saying a swift prayer to the 'Great Lord' that surely his eldest born wasn't entertaining more than just the one male servant, he discovered the young footman had scurried past him and was now half way down the hall.

'And just what do you think you are doing in my daughter's chamber?' he bellowed after Will.

'Nothing ,M'Lord' a bemused Will answered candidly, for that moment not registering why his appearance from the room should matter.

'Nothing! Nothing, sonny, is exactly what you'll be doing AND earning in the morning if that's your answer. Now, Ill ask you again, what in God's name were you doing in my daughter's bedroom!'

Realising the gravity in his tone and the precariousness of the situation, Will was simply stumped for words 'I … I … was just-'

'Oh I know exactly what you were just…' Lord Farquason cut him off sizing him up as he stepped menacingly closer '… you disgusting little weasel, if you think my daughter would even so much as look at you-'

'What? NO!' Will protested, his face contorted with disbelief 'Christ no!'

'DON'T use the Lord's name in vain in MY presence boy! Your best off sticking with the kind of people with whom you are better acquainted!'

'What people?'

'Liars, vagabonds, thieves!'

'Thieves!' Will exclaimed

'Well if you weren't lying in wait for my daughter, then what else would you be doing in there, other than thieving!' Lord Farquason hollered, loud enough to wake the dead, well, certainly loud enough to alert the remaining adult in the room, whom, without a second thought had laid her sleeping charge back in his basket and dashed to the door to find out what on earth was going on the other side of it.

'Ahhh, so you had an accomplice then?' Farquason beamed with delight on hearing the door open, before his facial expression descended back into one of rage, when he saw a rather dishevelled, not to mention slightly provocatively dressed Lizzie hurtle out into the corridor.

'Your Lordship!' she squeaked, instantly recognising how bad this looked.

'Miss McDuff.' He greeted her pleasantly, continuing with in a tone that almost made her cower 'Would you care to explain exactly what is going on here?'

'I was attending Lord Hugo Sir!' she pleaded.

'Officially attending my grandson you may well have been Miss, but as to how much of your attention was paid to him, or most likely…' he trailed off, looking disgustedly from her to Will, who to cap it all was tucking the bottom of his shirt into his trousers, and back again '… others far less worthy, is anyone's guess!'

'What are you saying!' Lizzie shrieked, unable to believe this was happening.

'I have nothing more to say to you girl, but there is a multitude of things I intend to inform my daughter of in the morning!'

'But she hasn't done anything wrong, we weren't doing anything!' Will insisted.

'To the likes of you this .. this sinful, sordid, and thoroughly degrading behaviour may not bat eyelids, but to anyone with an ounce of dignity, or good breading this is an utterly appalling existence!' With Lizzie too busy chocking back the tears, and Will fighting the overwhelming impulse to lop the man's head off with a sword from the nearest suit of armour, Farquason continued mercilessly 'Now I see it is you I have to thank for my daughter's unruly behaviour, I would never have allowed you to return to Scotland with her if I knew what a ghastly influence you would have on her! Well that stops here and now – get yourself back down those stairs, crawl back into whichever gutter you belong, as no daughter of mine has any need of your services – though I dare say you'd find some grotty tavern packed to the rafters with potential 'employers!'

Completely lost for words Lizzie stayed gravely hushed, slipping into silent hysteria as words she would never have imagined anyone ever saying to her raced around her head. Will stared at her for a second, seething with anger at what this deranged old bastard had just done, not waiting another before launching his own scathing attack. 'Who the hell do you think you ar-'

He was cut off in his tracks as Cecil Farquason wasn't about to let any jumped up, over-sexed idiot, one up from a stable boy, one down from a pile of horse-manure, tell him what he could and couldn't do – especially when both his daughter and son-in-law had just failed to do so. 'I am the executor of my daughter's estate, I pay HER wages, and if I say she's gone, she's gone - BE-GONE!' he bellowed at the terrified maid, who promptly did as she was told, running away as fast as her liquidated legs could carry her.

'You bas-' Will exploded, raising his hand to the old man, who showed not all his senses were failing him as he caught the footman's fist, proceeding to crush it in his.

As Will's elbow and knees buckled and his arm was painfully twisted back the wrong way, giving Cecil the perfect opportunity to finish his piece 'I suggest you go finish what you started here, because your not going to get the chance again!'

With this, he released Will's arm, stepping back to watch the helpless footman scramble to his feet and flee after her, leaving Lord Farquason, now positively self-combusting, alone in the corridor. A few moments later, he was awoken from his rage-induced trace by the sound of his grandson crying out. Realising he had himself now left the child unattended, and more to the point didn't have the faintest idea how to respond to his needs, he took a deep breath before preparing to enter Lady Rebecca's room.

However, just as he did so, there came a clear, yet timid voice – 'Are you in need of assistance Sir?

Despite Rebecca's best intentions she just couldn't bare to stay longer than five minutes at the party. The moment she had poked her dainty head back round the door the whispers had started, those gatherings of old and bitter aristocratic widows who sat in the dark corner at every posh affair and had nothing better to do than spread the dirt on who was who and with whom they were at it with! So it seemed that on returning to the room she not only had to avoid the swaggering posturing of one Rufus Gannon but also those snide comments that were spreading around the room like wildfire as the gossips speculated on the nature of the Farquerson family spat. So in an effort to avoid those superior looks and another confrontation with her furious father she slipped back out of the ballroom catching Andrew's eye as she left, sending him a soft reassuring smile before disappearing from his concerned gaze.

At first she wasn't sure where she was going, not even noticing where her feet where taking her but eventually she looked up from the floor surprised and at once relieved to realise that subconsciously she had come to the one place and the one person who might be prepared to listen and not judge. Eager all of the sudden as she realised just how long it had been since they had talked or even seen each other, so talking a tentative breath she reached out and knocked gently on the plain wooden door.

"Flora?" Rebecca called out softly, for a moment wondering if maybe her friend wasn't yet in her room and thinking perhaps she aught to try her office when suddenly the door opened a somewhat tired and strained voice called out.

"Yes is it important cause I was just about to retire…"

"I can come back…." Rebecca began when a suddenly animated Flora leant forward and caught her arm.

"Don't you dare!" Flora exclaimed opening the door wide and ushering the relieved Rebecca inside.

"My goodness when did you get so huge!" Rebecca gasped as Flora waddled back to her comfy fireside chair whilst waving at the somewhat chilly Rebecca to take Walter's usual seat.

"Oh like you were one to talk, you think I am big well you should have seen yourself just before….well I don't know how you moved around at all."

"I didn't remember I just got you and Lizzie to rush around for me!" Rebecca retorted giggling slightly as she glanced around the room, smiling at all the little homey touches her friend had made to her shared quarters. "It's lovely in here so very cosy and I see Walter brought back even more artwork from India." She added pointing at the brightly coloured batik hanging over the fireplace.

"Yes well it is quite the hobby of his, not quite my taste but well….You know what men are like Rebecca better to humour them over little things so their silly pride doesn't get dented." Flora chuckled rubbing her hand soothingly over her bump as she shifted around trying to get comfortable.

"Little one kicking up a storm?"

"Oh just a bit, I don't know who she gets it from me or Walter?"

"Still convinced it's a girl then!" Rebecca chortled. "I wonder what your husband thinks of that, hoping for a boy I have no doubt!" She added unable to keep the slight bitter tone from her voice as she recalled her recent conversation with her own father.

"Well that's natural I suppose." Flora replied hesitantly before bravely broaching the subject she knew was the real reason for her friend's surprise visit. "Rebecca is something wrong…With little Hugo or Andrew perhaps?" She added pausing for a moment before adding. "You can tell me anything you know that and it won't go anywhere not even to Walter you have my word on it!"

For a moment neither woman spoke, Flora hesitatant unwilling to push her friend into revealing something she would rather keep private and Rebecca unsure about how to broach such a subject.

"It's my father actually….He…He is trying to force me into marrying someone else!" She chocked out now unable to restrain the tears that had been threatening all night. "He said the most awful things, and I know he knows about Andrew and me…I don't know if he has worked out about little Hugo…but despite everything he isn't a stupid man so he must see the resemblance dammit I know I do!"

"It can't be that bad…"

"Oh but it is Flora, he went to strike me earlier when I told him I wouldn't marry Rufus and then when Monty tried to stick up for me he threatened him as well, he honestly would ruin Monty's chances of a parliamentary seat just to brow beat us both into those perfect little puppets…I can't believe that he's my papa sometimes, I mean growing up he doted on me and I always found a means of getting my own way. I'm not bragging or anything but I was always daddy's little girl and true he grew impatient the older I grew and still I refused to marry but I think deep down he realised I would always end up with Hugo and he always treated him like the son he never had so he was prepared to wait for the inevitable I think; but now……"

"Now?" Flora asked softly leaning forward and covering Rebecca's trembling hand with her own.

"Now he won't be content until he's married me off to some pompous blue blood just to stop the scandal of Andrew and I getting out, I mean why else is he pushing me so quickly after Hugo's death it doesn't make sense unless he would rather see me pushed into an unhappy loveless marriage than suffer the shame of a daughter of his marrying a servant!"

"But you love Andrew surely that's more important…I mean he's your father and he must love you and want you to be happy, I mean I know it must have been a bit of a shock so maybe he's just testing you both to see how committed you are to each other?"

"Do you really think so?" Rebecca gasped her beautiful eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Could that be the reason?"

"Well it makes sense doesn't it." Flora retorted. "If you and Andrew were to marry then you would come under intense social disapproval and it could tear you apart then both of your lives would be ruined whereas if he made you realise now how difficult things could be and gave you the chance to choose now while you still can then…"

"I could give him up while I still have the chance, that is what you were going to say Flora wasn't it?" Rebecca cut in, getting suddenly to her feet before pacing agitatedly up and down the small sitting room. "You don't need to tell me that is what you really think I should do…I can see it in your eyes, in Monty's, dammit even in your husbands every time he looks at me, that reproachful glance that tells me it would be easier on everyone if I simply moved on, let Andrew go and found some nice fellow aristocrat to settle down with and live a life of privileged boredom!"

"Rebecca please!" Flora snapped. "Don't tell me what I think! If you want my opinion just ask for it!"

Throwing herself back down into the chair her head now in her hands Rebecca sighed deeply taking a long ragged breath before replying. "I'm afraid to…I'm afraid to ask because what if what you say makes sense and I have to admit there are times when I am so tired of fighting everybody that I almost think it would better for us all if I just went away and never came back!"

Smiling softly Flora leaned as far forward as her belly would allow reaching out and taking the trembling aristocrat's hands with her own. "Rebecca I think that you and Andrew should go and see your father, tell him quite bluntly but calmly that you love each other and intend to marry and that he has a clear choice he can either accept this and help you both and remain part of a loving family or you will marry anyway without his blessing regardless of the scandal. You and I know both know your father only has guardianship of your funds whilst you remain single as soon as you remarry whether it be Earl or commoner under the law control of your wealth will transfer to your current husband, Hugo's will was very explicit on that point Walter told me."

"But how does…?" Rebecca began confused. "I mean I don't remember much of the reading I was so distraught and Lizzie had to take me to my room half way through, I just left the finer details to papa."

"As butler he is often present at important occasions, mostly hidden in the background but he keeps his ears open and he is more than proficient in legal matters. The important thing is that although he blusters and tries to bully you around he can only do so whilst you have no husband to protect you, that is something you can use to your advantage it might be enough to call his bluff to protect both yourself and Monty."

"Do you really think it would work?" Rebecca whispered unable to keep the hopeful timbre from her voice and the excited flicker from her eyes as she finally saw a possible way out of the maze in front of her.

"Well honestly what have you got to loose, can things get much worse?" Flora replied sadly, smiling softly as her friend got to her feet suddenly eager to return to her own quarters and discuss Flora's suggestion with Andrew. "Next time I visit I promise, no more loading you down with my woes. Perhaps I can bring little Archie and we can have tea and do some sewing, it would be so nice just to escape to the sanctuary of your sitting room once and a while."

"Well you're more than welcome anytime, but as for the peace and quiet and relaxation…."

"But it thought now Molly is helping you…." Rebecca began stopping suddenly when she saw Flora's normally serene face crumple in annoyance at the mention of the under-housekeeper. "What's wrong with Molly all of a sudden?"

"You do not want to ask!" Flora snapped. "But I doubt she will be anyone's problem for much longer since she saw fit to resign!"

"What?" Rebecca gasped, worrying how poor Monty would take the news of his lover's impending absence, after all it hadn't taken a genius to work that one out you just had to see how Molly acted around him, and her father had confronted Monty over his mistress here at Taplows, but she truly wondered how much Flora knew.

"It's nothing for you to worry about Rebecca but I do dread telling Walter, he will undoubtedly blame me but its hardly my fault if she's bloody incompetent!" Flora trailed off an unreadable expression flickering over her expression at the mention of her husband but before a now concerned Rebecca could press Flora further there was a sharp knock on the housekeeper's door.

"Flora dear Walter sent me to check up you, he says you should be in bed already!" A shrill and yet wholly recognisable voice rang out as its owner pushed the door open without even waiting for the customary 'enter'. "Oh Lady Rebecca!" Emily exclaimed on finding her daughter in law not alone as she expected.

"Mrs Corey….I was just leaving." Rebecca replied, shooting Flora a commiserating glance as she slipped out into the corridor intent on finding Andrew as quickly as possible


	6. Episode 5b

Lord Montgomery Hamilton-Hussey had felt sick to his stomach since his confrontation with his father-in-law. He had returned to the party but kept his distance from Cecil – and the beastly Rufus – until he could stand idle political gossip no more, downing the last of his brandy glass and slipping out of the room and back into the hallway. He didn't normally have the desperate urge to light up, but this time he felt were extenuating circumstances so with a sigh made his way out into the summer dusk, the crown of the amber sun dipping behind the trees and extinguishing the last vestiges of light. The night was perfectly still, hardly a breeze to ripple the stagnant air as Monty lit up his cigar and took a long, satisfying drag, before raising his head and exhaling the smoke in one long breath. He was surprised at how calming he found the warm dryness in his mouth and the taste of the burnt weed on his tongue, and he immediately began to relax.

Monty was rather certain that Cecil was bluffing, for his precious daughter's sake rather than Monty's career. He wouldn't wish to ruin Francesca's already battered reputation further by exposing her husband, but even still the threat would remain over Monty right through his Parliamentary career like the Sword of Damocles. He would be hostage to the political whims of Lord Farquarson and his parliamentary career would become a farce. He hung his head, ambling down the side of the house as the flaming torches lit up the night sky. All his life he had been controlled, whether it be by his father or his father-in-law, or even his wife. He had wanted to become an engineer, there was so much potential and such an exciting time to learn, but his father had insisted he study law. Monty had hated it and had dropped out of university after only a year, and his father barely spoke to him again after that. He then decided to go into business and found his niche, but he always wondered what could have been. He hated to think it, and he shuddered slightly at the thought, but for the first time in his life he wouldn't mind at all if someone – Cecil Farquarson – would drop dead. He loved Molly and he wasn't going to lose her over the pathetic threats of a man hell-bent on ruining his life.

Just as he turned his thoughts to how on earth he was going to tell Molly that it had all become far more complicated than either of them had imagined, he heard a quiet yet distinctive sob. Pausing, Monty frowned and turned his head, trying desperately to work out where the sound was coming from. He squinted through the darkness, waiting, and as he heard the second sob concluded that it must be coming from inside the Orangery.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to go in or to leave whoever it was alone, but his conscience got the better of him and he tentatively stepped inside. It didn't take him long to work out who it was, the lady in question slumped over in a chair and sobbing into her hands. With a gulp, Monty softly tread forwards, wondering if she had heard him, but when she failed to look up he stopped a short distance away and stared at her pitifully.

"Rebecca?" He asked soothingly, his voice cutting through the quietened sobs. Swiftly Rebecca glanced up at her new company, forcing a weak smile as she uneasily lowered her eyes to the floor. "What is wrong? Is it that cad Gannon? What has the unthoughtful rotter said?"

She shook her head and sniffed. "No, not him. Well, partly, but I wish I could say it is all his fault, but it isn't. Oh Monty, it's such a mess. I was meant to be speaking to him, telling him we have to speak to Father, but I don't know if I can! Flora's right, but how can I do it!" Rebecca's frame began to shake in despair and fear, shutting her eyes and completely missing the look of confusion on Monty's face. What was she telling him – or _trying_ to tell him?

"I don't understand, you and Gannon were meant to be telling your father something? Not that it's any of my business, but I thought you didn't like him?"

"No, not Rufus, I'm not talking about him, Monty." Rebecca said, almost laughing through her tears at such a preposterous suggestion. "There's…there's something I haven't told anyone, well anyone in the family anyway. I have a secret – a dreaded, awful secret – and somehow I feel you might not be as harsh on me as my father, or my sister."

Monty's concerned expression turned stunned but he remained silent, pulling up a chair so he was facing his sister-in-law. A gentleman should always carry a handkerchief for such occasions, even when dressed in an unusual costume, so fishing around in his 'ridiculous' robes he found what he was looking for and handed her a crisp white hankie which Rebecca accepted graciously. Then she poured her heart out, right from the beginning when she first met Andrew, how they were apart for such a long time, her first arrival at Taplows, how Hugo had been her saviour and her best friend, and finally baby Hugo's – and Archie's – paternity. She felt it unnecessary to mention her husband's 'leanings', it was something she had vowed to take to her grave, but she did tell Monty that she and Hugo had never been in love, just very close friends. And that he had understood her.

When she had finished, every word which had poured out of her mouth providing her with greater release, it felt strange yet rather liberating to have finally told someone of her own social status.

She didn't wish to freely admit it, but somehow Monty's view of her relationship with the under-butler mattered more than even Flora's. Maybe, if he too understood like Hugo had done, that their whole world was built on horrific constraints, suppressed emotions and condemned to always trying to live up to unreasonable and often cruel expectations, then she would be sure she wasn't mad after all. When she had finished, she drew in a deep breath and her shoulders slumped. Monty may have appeared shocked, but somehow her revelation didn't surprise him all that much. He wanted to laugh out loud at the irony of the situation, that he himself was in the same predicament and joke about how funny it was that her secret was the brother of his, but instead he drew her into a hug and soothed her. He had every sympathy for her, but he knew she was putting herself in an impossible situation. He could hardly think of a thing to say, he had no solution, damnit he couldn't even think of one for himself let alone a widowed woman with a child to raise.

"What am I to do, Monty? I'm in love and can't keep this a secret much longer." Rebecca asked quietly, but before he could even consider a reply they heard loud footsteps followed by a booming voice which shook them to the core.

"I should have known! Hamilton-Hussey, you're the Devil in disguise; a rogue!"

Monty and Rebecca broke apart instantly, Monty jumping to his feet in utter horror. The look of pure hatred on Lord Farquarson's face caused Rebecca to yelp, almost cowering in her seat, but Monty stood firmly in between her and her father.

Monty began to protest in the firmest of tones. "Cecil, it's not what you think….."

"It's not what I _think_ !" Lord Farquarson's voice was low and growling, his eyes popping out of their sockets and his veined cheeks blushing crimson. "You are damn right it's not what I think, it's what I _know_ !"

"Father….!" Rebecca began wearily, but Monty quickly jumped in with a quick attempt to avert crisis.

"She was upset about Archie, it's still only been a few days Cecil!" He tried to reason, but instead the Lord grew more and more incandescent by the second as he took a dramatic step towards his son-in-law.

"How dare you use the memory of my grandson to cover for your…your….indiscretions, your ungentlemanly behaviour, your….your _treachery_ against Francesca! I knew you had one whore under this roof, but _two_ !"

Monty snorted, raising his eyebrows at the sheer gall of the man. "How dare _you_ call Rebecca – your own daughter – a whore! She is the most gracious woman I have ever met and I have a lot of respect for her, and I can assure you my good Cecil there is absolutely _nothing_ untoward going on between us!"

"And why would that be, because you love your wife so much?" Lord Farquarson asked scathingly, glaring at Monty as if he was something he had just found on the stable floor. He jabbed an accusing finger into Monty's chest, his blood so near boiling point Monty could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. "I don't believe you, and I'm going to make sure you are ruined, there is no way I am going to let you become a member of such an influential institution as Parliament! You can keep to your gentleman's club, that is all that is good for you, although by the time I'm through with you, you will not be welcome in a public house let alone the House of Commons!"

"Father, stop!" Rebecca felt she had held her tongue long enough. As a wave of fury like she had never felt engulfed her, she rose to her feet and gently pushed past Monty so she was stood in front of him. The speed with which she physically confronted her father may have suggested she wasn't afraid of him any longer, but it wasn't until afterwards she realised it was merely the adrenalin – or the 'quickness of her mood' – which had suppressed her usual fear.

"Stop, I tell you, you are wrong! In fact I cannot recall a time when you have been right about anything!" Rebecca's voice was firm but shaken, unshed tears sparkling through the dim light. She had no idea of the other woman her father was accusing Monty of seeing, but he had no right to threaten him like that. Farquarson stood in enraged silence as his daughter continued. "It is not Monty I love, it is another! A caring, thoughtful man who I know loves me, not like Rufus Gannon or any of the other men you would have me wed!"

"Who is it!" Farquarson hissed through his clenched teeth.

"You don't have to tell him, Rebecca." Monty breathed, his eyes firmly fixed on the old Lord.

Farquarson was indignant.

"Stay out of this, Montgomery! You have come between me and my daughters enough!" Monty fell silent. Rebecca knew her own mind, but whether she had thought through the consequences of telling Cecil Farquarson about her socially abhorrent love affair he wasn't sure.

"Rebecca tell me, WHO IS HE!"

"It is me, my Lord."

Farquarson spun round on his heels as Rebecca whimpered, covering her mouth as she stared over at the door of the Orangery. For a long, earth-shattering moment there was silence, except for the soft sound of Monty slowly lowering himself into a chair. Adams stood defiantly in the doorway, his gaze only flickering briefly to Rebecca before holding it on Lord Farquarson as their eyes met.

"What did you just say?" Farquarson's voice began to falter with the shock and disbelief flooding his mind.

Adams spoke clearly, emerging from the shadows as he edged slightly in Rebecca's direction. He had such an overwhelming urge to protect her, and if Farquarson was to lash out he much rather it be directed at him than her. He knew, however, that the issue of Hugo's paternity should be kept from the old goat at all costs, he had no wish to disinherit his young son from what he saw as rightfully his. "I think you heard me, sir. I love your daughter and your grandson as if he were my own, and I would wish to marry her, if you would give me her hand."

Farquarson opened his mouth to speak, but all he could muster was a strange, choked squeak as his scarlet complexion turned purple. The tears had begun to stream silently down Rebecca's cheeks once more but Monty had no idea what he should do, if anything. Instead he continued to sit, deeply wishing he could speak freely in favour of the under-butler.

Finally, Farquarson was able to talk, much to everyone's disappointment. "I don't believe you! Rebecca, tell him to leave you be, that you will see he is sacked for his wild accusations!"

Rebecca gulped hard, her mouth dry and her heart thumping quickly. "Father, it is true. We are in love, and one day we wish to be married. Hugo would have blessed our union, and I would love it dearly if you were to do the same. Please, Papa."

"Over my dead and buried body!" Farquarson growled. "I would see him clapped in irons in Newgate before I let him marry you! How could you! What would you see in him, he has no money, no airs and graces, he has nothing to offer you! You are a disgrace to the Farquarson – and the Mackenzie – name, and I would not be surprised if that child is a bd! The good Lord only knows if this…this vermin is his father, I do not think I wish to know, but one thing is for certain you are no daughter of mine! You are dead to me!"

Rebecca began to wail. "Father, please! Do not say those things!"

"So I take it that's a 'no' then, Your Lordship?" Adams asked calmly, injecting a sarcasm into the heat of the row which nearly caused Monty to laugh out loud.

"And as for you!" Farquarson boomed at Adams, walking stiffly towards him. "I will make sure you never work again, you will live in isolated poverty for the rest of your life until you die in a pool of your own excrement because you couldn't even afford a hole in the floor to piss in!"

"Well," Adams began, keeping his voice, and his temper, under control as best he could. He didn't want assault adding to his list of felonies. "If you will not give your blessing, then I am afraid we will have no choice but to live without it. Once I'm Rebecca's husband you will no longer have any rights over her. We don't need society's approval to live happy and content, our lives are nothing without each other and the late Lord Hugo Mackenzie gave us his consent before his death and that is enough for me. If the only person we am wronging is you, my Lord, then although I am sorry for it, it is certainly not reason enough for us to live apart. Rebecca is a vibrant, beautiful, intelligent woman and you are right about one thing, I don't know why she would choose someone like me, but you are wrong when you say I have nothing to offer her."

Farquarson turned from Adams, as if gracing him with any more attention was far too beneath him and elevated him to a status of which he was not worthy. Instead, he turned warningly to his daughter, determined to have the last say before he walked away from this sorry mess to consider his next move. He was damned if his wayward daughter was about to shame him like that, but he had to consider some damage limitation. One thing was for sure, his first action the next morning would be to go straight to Algie, by-passing that useless butler this time. He didn't wish to disturb Algie while his party was in full swing, but he was going to get his own back on that Glaswegian servant scum Andrew Adams sooner rather than later.

"Listen to me, young lady." Farquarson said in a low, threatening tone. "When we are done at Taplows I never, ever wish to see you again, consider yourself cut off from your inheritance! You would have received a nice, tidy sum from me but I will amend my will on my return to Scotland and you won't see a penny! And not only that, I will take Hugo away from you, you're not fit to be his mother!"

Rebecca stood firm, hiding the desperate need to crumple into a heap and sob until she was sick. Adams could not have felt more proud of her. "We will be married before you can take Hugo away from me, you will have no right to do so, and I am glad you will be out of my life, I don't need such a bigot for a father!"

Farquarson sniffed, turning to Monty. "Did you know about this!"

Monty simply shrugged. For the first time Farquarson realised he was isolated. Without another word, he stormed from the room, hell-bent on heading straight to his chamber to hide his shame from the world. Monty also quickly left; Rebecca's world wasn't the only one soon be turned upside-down.

Storming into the footmen's room Will barged past Joe, before pulling his foot up onto a bench, quickly untying his shoe laces before kicking both of his boots up into the air, the first one narrowing missing Fred's head.

"Summit up?" Fred snorts, smirking towards Joe who just scowled at his insensitivity.

"Like hell there is!" Will yelled, clenching his fists tightly before moving them over to massage his tired feet.

"That bloody get!"

"Charles? He ain't that bad…so he got promoted, we've been through all this," Joe sighs.

"Not him!" Will snaps, "That bastard!"

"We are gonna need more than that Will, you could be talking about anyone, Adams, Jarvis, Keneally…"

"Lord bloody Farquarson!" He interrupts, realising that the list could go on for a while before they reached this particular git.

"Oh right," Fred rolls his eyes, returning to his chores, suddenly not interested anymore.

"Well you could ask why!"

"We already know why," Joe explains. "We heard Liz spilling the whole ordeal to Grace."

"Oh great!" Will hisses. "How did she sound? She's not going to talk to me ever again is she?" Will rambles on, oblivious to the figure of a certain new footman lurking in the corridor, just out of sight. "Jarvis is going to bloody love this! Another excuse to fire my arse!"

"I doubt he'll go to that extreme," Joe comforts, patting his arm reassuringly.

"You've no idea!" Will curses under his breath, turning to bang his head against the wall. The last thing he needed was word of this getting round, but by the sounds of it it already had. Joe and Fred, well Fred especially found it difficult to keep anything to themselves. And he doubted very much he was Grace's favourite bloke since their little conversation on the stairs. "What exactly did Grace say to Liz?"

"Well we couldn't really hear much. Lizzie's cries were filling the room, but the way Grace was trying to make you sound like the bad guy apparently your not on her good side at the moment…"

"Understatement of the century," Will mumbles bitterly. "I was only telling her what I really thought of Frank."

"Well you did right mate. If you ask me he's concocting up some vicious scheme, it's not like him to be so cute and sympathetic. She needs warning…well we all saw what they were like in India."

"Yes, all over each other," Joe and Will chorus.

"Look mate Liz'll come round I'm sure. She's got no reason to be mad at you anyway from what I heard, she should be more livid with that pompous idiot upstairs," Joe begins, receiving a raised eyebrow from Fred as he went into 'loved up, understanding' mood. "Just try talking to her, preferably before Grace has more chance to bad mouth you."

"You're turning into more of a soft git by the minute," Fred whispered in Joe's ear, as Will turns to retrieve his scattered shoes.

"I know you're right guys, it's just I hate the idea of having to sit round here and wait for Jarvis to come along with a verdict from my favourite Lord. He'll love this, I'm not his favourite at the moment am I?…no I ain't." He answers for them. "That bloody Charles Lewis though, oh don't even get me started. Just wait till I see him, I'll…ooooo, I'll chop his bloody bollocks off before he nicks my job."

Well we'll see about that, Charles thinks from outside the door, smirking as Will got himself more and more wound up about the new Charlotte Evan's brother. Disappointed by the fact he had to make his escape before the owner of the approaching footsteps appeared he pricked up his ears to hear that the messenger was telling Will to get upstairs to see Lord Farquarson…This was going to be most interesting.

'Urgh! That bloody man!' Lady Mackenzie seethed after slamming her bedroom door so hard that the wooden panels were still vibrating as she slid half way down the back of it, wiping her trembling hands over her reddened face to cradle her head in her hands. 'WHY is he so maddeningly unreasonable!' she cried, tearing the headdress from her brow, swiftly hurling it aside, the thin golden frame ricocheting off the nearest wall.

With a heavy, exasperated sigh she hauled herself up and began pacing the room before continuing 'WHY does he ache to conform to what society dictates? Bend over backwards to satisfy, to pander to these inconsequential idiots … pushing me towards a man I could no sooner stand than love, away from the only one I ever could!'

'Ma'am' a timid voice spoke out, the interjection absentmindedly ignored as Rebecca persisted with her rant.

'Oh WHY does he insist on doing so, now he knows full well how much I love your father!' she paused, initially to take breath, but on at last surveying her company in the room, she now stopped dead.

'My father?' an exceedingly confused Hettie enquired.

'I … I' Rebecca stammered, completely taken aback at the site of a virtual stranger sitting in her bedside chair, watching over her son. 'I was talking to Hugo.'

'But my Lady, from what I've heard, Lord Mackenzie passed away.'

'I am well aware of the fact that my husband is dead Miss … Miss! I didn't mean hi-' Rebecca paused, unable to believe she was about to say what she was about to say, recovering with 'I mean, just because someone has passed, it never stops you lov…' she trailed off, looking down at her son, now remembering his brother as well Hugo.

Hettie could see this and instantly tried back-peddling to somehow rectify her gross insensitivity 'I'm sorry ma'am, I … I …'

'You were …' Rebecca began, quickly coming to the conclusion she had neither the inclination nor the patience to carry on. 'Where's Lizzy?'

'Who?'

'Elizabeth McDuff, my Lady's Maid' Rebecca spoke slowly and clearly, obviously having asked the unnerved girl a rather taxing question.

'She … she's gone your La-'

'Gone? What do you mean gone?'

'Well, gone, I think she's downstairs packing.'

'Packing? Where the hell is she go… no, she cant be, Lizzy wouldn't go, at least not without telling me!'

'I don't think she had a lot of choice in the matter your ladyship. She's been sacked.' Hettie added quite matter-of-factly having found her feet at last.

'Sacked! HOW!' Rebecca spat, utterly outraged.

'I'm not quite sure, something about an influence she's supposed to have had on you. Lord Fa-'

'No, don't say another word!' she snapped, abruptly holding up her hand to silence the young maid. 'How dare he!'

'Your Ladyship, if theres anything I … can … do.' Hettie offered suggestively.

'Yes, yes there is!' At this, Hettie's face instinctively lit up at the prospect of going from scullery maid to Lady's maid within the week. 'Could you please watch over Little Hugo whilst I promptly nip next door to strangle my father – he's trying to take everything else, he's not taking her too!' Rebecca proclaimed, bending down to stroke her son's head, placing a kiss before picking up the somewhat dented headdress - which her father had earlier told her looked 'bloody awful' - placing it firmly back on her head as she swept out of the room, seconds later to be heard hammering on her door to the one adjacent.

Around half an hour later, after a torrent of muffled abuse had seeped through the wall between the two rooms for at least half the time, the remainder then deathly silent (give or take a few guests out in the hallway returning to their rooms), Lady Rebecca entering her room once again stirred Hettie from her slumber, jump starting her to attention. The former strode purposefully across the room, again removing her headdress, this time in her usual calm and civilized manner, though her facial expression was far from so, she'd obviously been crying.

'Thank you Miss …'

'Willis, Hettie'

'Miss Willis, that will be all.'

'For now?' Hettie added hopefully.

'Well, not quite …' Rebecca started, at which Hettie's ears once again pricked up. ' … could you please Inform Miss McDuff that I'm looking forward to seeing her back on duty in the morning'

'Bu … but your father-' Hettie stuttered.

'My father, is not your concern thank you, I doubt he'll be voicing his ill-conceived opinions on my staff for quite some time.'

With that, Hettie admitted defeat, rapidly removing herself from the room, head down, after a pitiful attempt at a curtsy, only to see Monty hovering outside the next room, a deeply perplexed look on his face. This was disguised with a brief smile and a nod as he acknowledged her presence, Hettie half-heartedly returning them as she disappeared around the corner.

Meanwhile below stairs, an unawares Lizzie was doing exactly what her would-be replacement said she would be – preparing to leave. After being spoken to in such a discourteous manner, many people wouldn't have returned even if they received an apology on bended knee, but Lizzie, although having a strong set of principles, second only to Grace (third only to Charlotte and Grace had Charlotte still been with them), would have done anything to remain at Taplows.

After the debacle with Lord Farquason she'd been too quick for Will, purposely winding through the corridors as she didn't want him to catch up with her, to tell her everything was going to be alright, that he'd do whatever it took to keep her there, put his arms … she just wanted to be on her own. Of course in saying on her own, naturally that meant plus Grace who was distraught to hear of her dearest friend's imminent departure, Lizzie having to make her swear that on her next trip upstairs to tend the guests, she wouldn't go within spitting distance of Lord Farquason, as she had fully resigned herself to her fate, and did not under any circumstances want Grace ending up walking side by side with her down the drive in the morning.

Grace was convinced that it wouldn't come to that, 'clearly in denial' was the phrase Lizzie had called out to her as she was summoned to attend the t-total Countess Beatrice Casio, so rushing off upstairs balancing half the Earl's tea service on the only spare – dented - tray she could find. In her absence, Lizzie took what she feared would be one of her last looks around Mr Kraus' kitchen, now fondly remembering the countless times the rather highly-strung chef had declared her apple crumble a 'mud pie' and had launched into a lecture, worthy of comparison to a Reverend Postlebury Sunday service, each time he caught her and Grace swapping the daily gossip when they were supposed to be going about their set tasks.

Staring into the flames over which her friend had just boiled the water, the tears began to fall again as the precariousness of her situation sunk painfully in deeper. This place wasn't just her work, not just her home, it was her life and the thought of no longer being a proper daughter to her father, friend to all who knew her, and sister to her new brother, wasn't one she was bearing too well. She'd miss so much, especially with Hugo, why next time he saw her (if ever) would he even recognise her?

It was whilst debating this that she could have sworn she heard a child's cry. She knew the sound so well, too well she now told herself as she ran her fingers through her hair, resting her weary head in her hands as she sat at the large beech table. As she let out an exhaustive yawn, the sound seemed to disappear, but shortly after laying her head down on the table, she detected it once more, only louder and much more aggravated.

Lizzie's ears pricked up as she tried to work out where the cries were coming from – had Lady Rebecca found out and had come down with Hugo to take her back? Even though she had told Grace she'd given up all hope, that wasn't quite true, somewhere deep down she'd managed to retain the belief that Rebecca would send for her, but as the clock ticked away and Hugo's feeding time had come and gone, her credence began to wane.

There it was again, she could definitely hear something she concluded as she dragged her throbbing head up off the table and began to search for the noise. It sounded like it was coming from the pantry, but as Lizzie opened its door and ventured inside, it became increasingly evident that it was actually coming from outside. After a slight moment of hesitation, Lizzie cautiously crept over to the door that led into the Servant's courtyard and warily opened it, automatically enquiring 'Lady Rebecca?'

There was no answer, Lizzie looked right, towards the main courtyard – no one was there. Breathing a slight sigh of relief, she again took hold of the door handle and was about to pull the door to a close when out of the shadows to her left, came a voice which made her jump, followed by the emergence of a woman she'd never seen before, roughly leading what appeared to be a young boy out from behind her.

'C'm 'ere Phil! She scolded 'I dunno what your game is love, but I'm no Lady, and his name certainly isn't Rebecca!'

Completely taken aback by this bizarre turn of events Lizzie replied nothing to this, simply looked from what was presumably the mother, to the restless young child, who was rubbing his reds beetroot red, clearly being deprived of sleep.

'A mute are we?' the woman callously continued 'Ah well, Im sure you'll find some way of disciplining him, just like his father, he could do with a kick up the arse.'

'Father, who's father?'

Ahhh, it has got a tongue! HIS … father' the woman sardonically pointed out, looking at Lizzie as though she were brain dead.

A little embarrassed, Lizzie looked down at the child, who was now hiding his face in his mother's skirts. While being of fine material, and undoubtedly it was her best, her dress was blatantly second hand and very worn, the tears in the hems and numerous stains indicated that much.

When the woman noticed that Lizzie was studying her dress, she was quite affronted, defensively stepping back into the darkness, pushing the child forward, snarling 'Look, it might not be much, but its better than you'll ever have!'

'Who are you?' Lizzie breathed, her face contorted in a deep confusion at this rather surreal encounter.

'Who I am is not for you to know, but you'll certainly find out' the woman replied quite matter-of-factly 'After my association with this place and its inhabitants – one in particular - I'm going to make the best of myself, and to do that, I don't need him!' she went on, shoving the deeply disorientated toddler forward, forcing Lizzie to dive down in order to catch him. 'See he is returned to whom he belongs!' she cried as she promptly turned on her heels, fleeing the servants courtyard.

As the poor little mite began to scream and reach out for his wayward mother, Lizzie gathered him up into her arms, which was made most difficult by the fact that he was violently struggling, before shouting after her –

'Who!'

'Start with the second floor corridor, he'll still be there no doubt!' was the reply before she disappeared around the corner.

It was a good few moments after this that Lizzie turned her stunned gaze form the spot she had last seen her, to her young son who was still stretching with all his might in the same direction. For another few she just stood there, staring with the greatest sadness she'd ever experienced, watching this distraught little boy calling out for his mother, whom in all likelihood, Lizzie knew would never return.

'Hey …' she started awkwardly attempting with her free hand to stop him waving his hands furiously. 'Its ok, it ok, sssshh' she soothed, pulling him into her embrace, smoothing his fine tufts of brown hair down, as he'd clearly been twiddling them nervously.

When he had appeared to calm down, she pulled him up off her shoulder, and began to wipe the tears away from his sore red eyes. 'What are we gonna do with you my wee man eh?' she thought out loud, stopping as the infant momentarily looked her straight in the eyes – they were so strangely familiar - before flopping back onto her chest, sliding him arms round her neck.

Instinctively jogging him up and down as she gently rubbed his back, Lizzie stepped back inside the door, wandering straight through the darkened pantry into the warmly lit kitchen. She knew she couldn't stay there, pretty soon the guests would be sending for their warm milks - what the hell was she going to do now?

She wasn't concerned about the repercussions of her being caught with the child, as far as she knew, she'd been given her marching orders, so it didn't matter how loud Jarvis yelled, no, it was what would happen if he was discovered with her? What was going to happen to this handsome little lad who'd so carelessly been abandoned by his mother – where the hell would he go?

It was asking herself this that Lizzie remembered the woman's departing words 'Second floor corridor' she puzzled. Her initial reaction on seeing the original quality on her dress was that she must've had a fairly wealthy lover, but second floor corridor – now that was most certainly not an address of the rich and powerful … it was the location of the footman's room.

For a second Lizzie's heart stopped beating, she knew, she knew the child was his, it must be! Never one to leave a stone unturned, after checking the hallway, especially for senior staff, she pulled the dozing child further into her arms as she scurried down the passageway to the nearest stairs, rapidly finding herself outside the correct door.

However, when she actually reached it, it took her twice that time to pluck up the courage to enter. Not because there were likely to be half dressed males servants in there, but because now she wasn't so sure if she wanted her suspicions confirmed. Taking a deep breath, she seized the handle and forcefully opened the door.

Scanning the room she found no one there, only Johnny who was always the first in bed as after serving Lady Francesca warm milk, and Lady Mary stone cold milk after the Christmas feast, Jarvis had declared him too incompetent to stay up past ten. Despite this, he was currently defying orders by sitting up in his bed, which was the smallest of them all, reading a book which had been his only birthday present, only having been able to read some of the words after Charlotte had spent 4 painstaking months teaching him his ABCs, only getting as far as 'N' before she left, so 'Oliver Twist' was proving quite a challenge.

Just as Lizzie was about to retreat out of the room, she suddenly struck on the idea of extracting as much information from Johnny as she could – this could have taken a while, especially as in the darkness, she didn't get a very good look at the woman.

She took a deep breath and raised her head to look at Johnny, on doing so a shiver ran down her spine as she realised that he was looking at her in rather a disturbing manner, leading her to cough nervously.

'What you got there Miss Lizzie?' he asked, peering over the top of his book, which, on closer inspection she discovered was actually upside down, with an expression of deep though, one he often wore during staff meetings.

'Johnny …' she started, quite uncomfortably 'Do you know of any woman who used to work here?'

'Yup, been quite a few over the years' Johnny replied.

'Stupid question' Lizzie said to herself before trying to be a bit more specific. 'She must have been here just over a year ago' she continued, looking down at the child in her arms, trying desperately to remember what she looked like. 'Quite short, a little rounded, dark hair, brownish eyes?'

Johnny simply looked at her blankly – 'give me strength' she thought, scanning her memory for any other detail 'bit of a London accent?' she coaxed.

'London?'

'Yes London, well, cockney really' she supplied, realising she was fighting a loosing battle here this was beyond hopeless.

'Esther Spicer?' another voice suggested, it was Charles Lewis, whom she hadn't noticed until now. 'Charlotte said she knew a girl from London, think it was her'

'Esther Spicer!' Lizzie exclaimed, turning to see Charles pushing himself up his bed to rest against the headboard.

'Esther!' a third voice came.

Lizzie whirled back round to see Will standing at the open door, his eyes travelling from hers to the child in her arms, a look of part fury, part fear on his face.

He didn't know how he had done it, but Adams had managed to escape the Orangery and return to his room without Jarvis noticing. Or so he had thought. He had left his darling Lady Rebecca in Monty's capable hands, but as he headed back towards the party he felt in no fit state to carry out his duties. He could hardly bear to imagine the look of horror and disappointment on the butler's face. If Lord Farquarson hadn't already let the cat firmly out of its bag and allowed it to cause havoc with the Earl, then there was little point handing out drinks and acting as if nothing had happened, while on the other hand he knew his own expression would give the game away to Jarvis. He would much rather face the lesser of two evils and face a dressing down for being absent when he could at least hide his feelings a little better.

But, so lost in thought was Adams as he skirted through the servants quarters he failed to notice Jarvis watching him from the stairwell, tight-lipped, his crystal eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Adams knew he had to stop Lord Farquarson somehow. For all his brave words in front of Rebecca, he knew in his heart they were true, but at the back of his mind he was terrified of losing the little reputation he had. How he could possibly become used to being Laird of the Manor he had no idea; he, Rebecca and little Hugo would be isolated both geographically and socially and he knew his beautiful, young wife would become bored and unhappy. If wouldn't be fair on his son, and he was more scared than he would ever let on to Rebecca at the thought of having no job to do. He had little interest in the pursuit of hunting, and nobody on the surrounding estates would wish to ride out with him anyway, and other aristocratic past times hardly excited him. Andrew Adams was a proud, working class Glaswegian who was brought up by his aunt to expect to work for his money. The thought of becoming a 'kept man' on the back of a dead man's fortune for the rest of his life wasn't a wholly agreeable one if he thought deeper than superficial wealth. He felt it would destroy him as a man, and that was something a rich, aristocratic Lady just wouldn't understand.

Adams found his whiskey, dragging the bottle from under his bed and swigging straight from it. He gulped the burning nectar then wiped his mouth on his sleeve as he sighed.

"You're a total fool, Andrew." He huffed to himself, hanging his head. "You're thinking about being a man when all the while wouldn't you be less of a man to run away from your son and a wonderful woman like Rebecca?" It was a rhetorical question, as he knew the answer only too well. For all his preoccupation with class he had momentarily forgotten just how much he loved Rebecca and how desperate he was to bring up his son in a way he saw fit. He couldn't help but admit to himself that, in retrospect, striking up a taboo relationship with an aristocrat and making love to her secretly in her own bed gave him such a feeling of exhilaration it had taken him a while to realise that it was love and not just lust he had felt in his aching heart. Now he had a son with her, and that changed things even more – they were a /family/ in his mind, they belonged together and he had a duty towards them far greater than the duty towards his masters. He was damned if Hugo was to grow up without ever knowing him, maybe only catching a glimpse of his own flesh and blood as he passed in his carriage as Adams stood in the dirt at the side of the road and bowed submissively. He knew Farquarson had a good idea that Hugo was his and not the late Laird's, but Cecil's stubborn pride wasn't about to let him admit such an abomination to himself let alone the outside world. At least Adams could take some comfort in that.

"Andrew?" A quiet, soothingly familiar voice whispered through the crack of the door, dragging Adams from his deep thoughts. "Are you in there?"

Adams cleared his throat and hurriedly screwed the top back on his bottle and stuffed it under his pillow. His sister certainly couldn't see him drinking on duty. "Er, yes, Molly I'm in here."

The door creaked open and Molly's delicate frame became silhouetted in the doorway, her tresses ruffled and

draped around her skullcap. He didn't need to see her face to sense she was exhausted.

"Why are you in here all alone? Sitting in the dark?" She asked as her eyes adjusted to the near pitch of her brother's bedroom. "Has Mr Jarvis dismissed you for the evening?"

Adams sniffed out a sarcastic laugh and paced the small floor space around his bed. "I will be dismissed permanently if Rebecca's father has her way."

Molly made an indecipherable small noise and lit some nearby candles so a soft glow instantly gave some much needed light to the room. Adams' shoulders slumped and he stared at his feet as his sister fussed around him, picking up his strewn socks and mumbling under her breath about the untidiness of his room and how she thought he may have grown out of being such an utter mess by now. It took a few minutes before she responded to his downhearted comment, talking about everything else as if she were trying to work out what to say. She loved her brother, but if he had said or done something to jeopardise his fragile secret relationship with Rebecca it certainly wouldn't have surprised her. He was a hot-headed Adams as was she and she knew only too well words said in haste could have terrible consequences.

"I don't know what to do." Adams finally said, in a small voice. Molly promptly stopped shoving books on his bookshelf at this unusual admission and gulped. She kept her eyes fixed firmly on the battered wood of the shelf as he continued. "It's all….terrible. All ghastly, as Rebecca would say. Farquarson knows, and not only that he's going to have me dismissed tomorrow. I'm torn – I love Rebecca, but how….how can I leave the life I know for one of...oh, I don't know."

Molly sat herself down in the only chair in the room as her brother flopped back down onto his bed and covered his face in self-pity.

"My dear, dear Andrew." Molly chided gently. "What am I to do with you? What am I to do with myself? Love is so complicated, it's not like it is in the storybooks, people don't live happily ever after. You can't be the knight who rescues the fair maiden from the clutches of the fire-breathing dragon, Andrew, but you can do the right thing by her."

"Which is?" He asked, at a loss.

Molly smiled. "You tell me."

"No, I need you to tell me. That's what sisters are for."

"Only you know in your heart what is the right thing to do." Molly said, but her words were cold comfort. Adams had no idea.

Adams shrugged defeatedly. "Anyway I'm left with little choice really, once I have been sacked without character I will be unemployable, I will have to turn to Rebecca for help. She will have to look after me, and that's just not how it should be. It's not how I imagined it to be, I should be supporting her not the other way around."

"You men and your pride." Molly mocked, but there was a kindness to her tone. "It was never going to be like that, was it? Realistically? You love the woman and sometimes….sometimes love does conquer all, but you can't have blinkers on where someone of Rebecca's stature is concerned."

"What do you mean?" Adams frowned. Women talking about other women just meant double the confusion to him.

Sighing, Molly reached over and squeezed his arm. "She's not just a young Glaswegian lass with a mere shilling to her name and only the prospect of marriage going for her, Andrew. I haven't known Rebecca for all that long, but she comes across to me as a strong-willed woman who likes her independence and knows her own mind. She feels just as much pride in herself as you do in yourself." Molly smiled, her eyes twinkling against the moonlight shining into the room. "And, my dear brother, she seems to me to be a very persuasive lady. There is another way, to prevent Lord Farquarson from revealing your secret."

Adams' eyebrows shot up, but Molly could tell that he was already unconvinced and she hadn't even explained yet. But, Molly knew, what she was about to tell him would leave her wide open to her brother's questioning afterwards. With a deep breath she lowered her eyes to the ground. "There exists a – a document. It was drawn up by Lord Hugo's lawyer shortly before his death, all done in haste of course, but it was to be used if this were to happen."

Adams grew red. Surely Rebecca had told him all of Hugo's wishes? "Well, what is it then?"

Molly continued cautiously. "It was an addition to his will, a writ stating that he wished you to marry Rebecca in the event of his death. It was something that he knew Rebecca's father couldn't ignore, even if it did bring a whiff of scandal. Rebecca was now a MacKenzie and no longer a Farquarson so the Laird saw it as his own name to dirty, not Lord Cecil's, if you understand!"

"Then why….?" Adams shook his head in bewilderment as his heart leapt in a surge of hope. He also felt a twinge of anger that he hadn't been told about this document, unless of course Rebecca didn't know about it. "Why wasn't I told? That's bloody marvellous news, Hugo was right our dear Cecil can't ignore…"

"There's more." Molly interrupted, her soothing tone developing a negativity about it. "There's something else you should know. He knew Farquarson wouldn't be convinced easily, he needed some gentle…persuasion. The writ also states that on your marriage half of the MacKenzie estate be turned over to Farquarson's only nephew, you may have heard of him, Baron McManus of Glenarchy?"

Adams shook his head again. "Never heard of him! Half of the estate!"

"Yes, apparently Baron McManus has been desperate to get his hands on half of the land for a long time, through the encouragement of his uncle of course. There's been one of those land feuds between the Farquarson/McManus family and the McKenzies going back a few hundred years, and with this document Lord Hugo decided to end it once and for all. In exchange for Farquarson's acceptance of you."

Adams looked incredulous. He could tell there was more, Molly's expression told him as much. He didn't like the sound of this so far, but just as he was about to ask what this would mean for baby Hugo's future his sister spoke.

"There is one more thing, however." Molly said in a small voice as she shifted her gaze to the flickering candle flame. "Another condition of the writ – a secret part not for Farquarson's eyes - falls to you. You must never reveal Hugo's true paternity, you are to regard him as your step-son, and he will be told when he is old enough that Lord Hugo MacKenzie is his true-born father, and this he will always believe."

At this the under-butler jumped to his feet and swung round to glare at Molly, as if she had drawn up the conditions of this alleged writ herself. "That is madness!" He growled, causing Molly to jump a little in fright. She didn't often see her brother in a rage – well not nowadays anyway – and it scared her a little. "That is utter….but Hugo understood, he was supposed to be on our side! On Rebecca's side!"

"He was!" Molly insisted. "He did it to protect Rebecca, to protect her reputation! She doesn't even know about it!"

"To protect his own, you mean! How can I deny Hugo as my son, everyone says he even looks like me for God's sake! I will never lie to the boy, it would be unforgivable! He is MY son, not some Laird's, and I refuse to be held to ransom by Lord Farquarson and his extended bloody family!" Adams slammed his fist against the rough wood of his wardrobe, the loud thud causing Molly to reel and back away from attempting to comfort him. Instead she paced at the far side of the room, her hands firmly on her hips.

"I think Lord Hugo was being most generous, he has given you a ticket out of this mess and he had the foresight to plan ahead, which is more than I can say for you!" She snapped as Adams rested his head against the wardrobe door, panting.

"Where is it now?" Adams asked slowly.

"Mont….Lord Montague has it, he was made trustee, which was if you ask me a very sensible move. Another copy is with Lord Hugo's lawyer, as details of the estate still need to be finalised." Molly said firmly, but as she did so she could tell what question was next, and she had no way of answering it.

"And how do you even know about this writ?" Her brother's tone had turned accusing and Molly could feel her sympathetic side gradually ebbing away. He turned from the wardrobe and crossed his arms, his eyes cold and suspicious. "Come on, tell me. Have you been having a wee snoop around? You say Rebecca had no knowledge of it, so how would you know? Eh? Who would tell you? Lord Hugo died even before you set foot in this house."

Molly opened her mouth to speak, but she had begun to shiver. She felt she could say nothing but the truth. "Lord Montague told me, that's how I knew."

"And why would he do that?" Adams asked distrustfully. "Why would he tell the under-housekeeper this big secret, even if you are my sister? And when did he tell you, he didn't even find out about Rebecca and me until tonight!"

Molly's voice had shrunk to nearly a squeak, but even still it was firm. She wasn't going to be intimidated by her big brother, nor was she to volunteer any information without the right questions. "He told me less than twenty minutes ago. He escorted Rebecca back to her room, she was sobbing so much, and I saw him. He asked me to tell you."

Adams snorted. "I don't understand, though, why would he trust you, who he doesn't even know, with this information instead of coming to me direct……" Suddenly his expression clouded and his eyes widened in growing realisation as he thought back to Lord Farquarson's harsh words to Monty only a short while ago: "If you weren't my daughter's husband I could ruin you, she has confided in me, about your….your indiscretions! And I know that your whore is under this roof."

There was a long silence as the truth began to sink in. Adams could hardly feel disgusted at this news, instead he felt like laughing. It was like a family curse! Molly had turned extremely pink as she continued to stand quietly, waiting for her brother to say what he was thinking. Eventually, he did, but what he would say would send shockwaves surging through her body.

"So I am not the only Adams old Lord Farquarson has made it his life's quest to destroy?" Adams said dryly, a small smile tugging at his mouth. Molly's jaw dropped and she blinked. "I overheard him talking to Lord Montgomery – or Monty, as I'm sure you're accustomed to calling him – he was threatening to ruin his career, he said he knew about the whore he was seeing, a woman under this very roof."

Molly cringed at the 'whore' insult, but if what Andrew was saying was true she had more pressing worries than the choice words Farquarson would use to describe her. She had to get to Monty that night, to talk it through, she hadn't expected it to come to this so soon, to have to make a choice, and she suddenly realised how her brother must be feeling. They were both in exactly the same predicament.

"I've no idea how and when you and Hamilton-Hussey began seeing each other, and I'm not going to ask – well not now anyway." Adams said distractedly. "It seems we both have problems to solve, and I for one am not about to sit around here pondering whether to become a prisoner of Farquarson's wishes." He stormed towards the doorway, flinging open the door and turning back to his sister who was standing looking forlorn and confused.

"Where are you going?" She asked meekly.

"To sort this out once and for all, that's where." Adams announced, but the cold determination in his eyes shook Molly to the core. She had only ever seen that look a few times before, and it was always after he had resolved to find Henry and punch his lights out for hurting his sister. "And I suggest Molly you do the same, it seems like you and your dear Monty have some talking to do, unless events intervene of course and Farquarson doesn't get to open his over-stuffed mouth."

Before she could ask what on earth was he talking about, he had gone, marching up the hallway and bellowing orders at a few stray servants. With a gasp, Molly glanced at the clock. It was getting late, and so much had to be done until she could even think about catching up with Monty to discuss their predicament. She neatened her hair in her brother's mirror, and muttering under her breath she hurried off to find Mr Jarvis and to finish her many chores.

A few hours later and after he had seen the rest of the house off to bed the butler stood in the entrance hall giving the final nod to young Charles who had admirable agreed to stay up and help him oversee the final evening rituals of locking the doors and inspecting the now spick and span ballroom all evidence of the party now vanished as if a genie had simply snapped their fingers.

"Off to bed with you Charles…Oh and well done lad, I don't often say this but you're continuing to impress me keep this up and I won't hesitate to provide all the opportunities you could hope for." He added hinting at their unspoken agreement with a wry smile as he waved the fatigued young man back to the servant's quarters.

Staying behind for a moment Jarvis turned to the great grandfather clock that stood loud and proud in the hallway pulling out his own more accurate pocket watch and making the necessary adjustment to 'Old Algernon' as the previous butler had nicknamed the great clock. Which is apparently as cantankerous as the old Earl who had bought the clock from an eccentric London clockmaker and so had more than earned that name.

It was as he was putting the watch away in his pocket and was turning on his heel eager to head back and spend a little quality time with his beautiful bride, who had given him her word she would wait up for him and share a sip of his nightcap which was all he would allow, that he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of something dashing up along the upstairs balcony.

"Hello My Lord or Lady do you need anything?" He called out into the darkness shrugging when he received no reply and convincing himself he must have imagined it he turned and headed off to bed.

Ten minutes later a now relaxed Walter Corey was relaxing in front of the fire in his sitting room having shrugged off his finest black dinner jacket and kicked off his shoes he sat slumped against one their easy chairs toasting his toes by the warmth of the flames. Letting his eyes drift slightly closed he smiled contentedly as he felt a teasing hand ruffle his hair, dragging her long fingers through his medium length locks as she pushed him gently aside settling herself down in the chair behind him.

"So how was your day Mrs Corey?" Jarvis asked reaching back and indulgently rubbing little circles on the soles of her aching feet, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips as he heard her sigh contentedly at his ministrations.

"Getting better by the second Mr Corey." Flora teasingly replied brushing her fingertips down across the side of his cheek before tugging gently on his earlobe before moving to massage his tense shoulder. "You're all tight Walter." She muttered almost to herself as she proceeded to loosen his tight shoulder muscles and missing the telltale giggle from her husband as he lent back into her caress.

"Oh well it's the staff you see, can't get them to do as they're told and as for my housekeeper well…" He began mischievously only stopping when a cushion came suddenly down on his head. "I see you've met her then." He muffled against the upholstery earning him a playful clip round the ear. "Now now Mrs Corey no need to be getting jealous…I must admit I have a soft spot for the gorgeous creature but I must admit I prefer my wife." He added pushing the cushion to the floor and turning to face his wife who was smiling indulgently at him.

"Well I always thought you had excellent taste Mr Corey." Flora countered tugging at his cravat until it lay loose on his shoulders.

"Join me?" He asked softly patting the cushion beside him. "I have it on safe authority there is room enough for two."

"How about two and a half?" Flora asked lazily patting her own large belly for emphasis.

"Oh it'll be a tight squeeze but I'm sure we'll manage." He retorted offering her his arm to lever herself out of the chair and settling somewhat clumsily due to her size on the rug beside him leaning her head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms as far around her middle as he could.

"He's busy tonight." Walter muttered lovingly into her hair, as he drew his hand across her stomach his heart filling with a tender joy as he felt his child move beneath his hand.

"Don't I know it 'she' has been dancing a merry jig for the last hour or so…How the hell I am going to get to sleep?" Flora replied nuzzling her face into her husband's neck.

"Do you know what mother said helps?" The butler muttered leaning forward and brushing stray locks from his wife's face.

"Not another tip from Mrs Corey senior, what is it this time eat dairy products if you want a boy or such nonsense?"

"No singing tends to sooth a baby in the womb just like it does after they are born, why don't you…"

"Walter Corey!" Flora snapped wrenching her head an inch off his shoulder to look him in the eye. "I am not going to start singing to my stomach every time the baby starts kicking people will think I have caught lady Mary's complaint! But if you think it'll work then be my guest!"

"Fine then I will!" Walter retorted suddenly pushing his shocked wife flat against the floor, and moving to rest his head on her belly before beginning a somewhat strained tenor voice so that his wife had to stifle her giggles.

"Goodnight baby

Goodnight baby

Goodnight my darling baby

It's time for sleeping now

Merrily we roll along

Roll along

Merrily we roll along

on the deep blue sea"

"Well?" He added after repeating the same lullaby several times each time his voice getting more accustomed to the right pitch before he turned to his wife.

"Hmmm It seems to have worked, so tell me Walter what will it cost me to have you sing that every time I want to sleep?" Flora asked playfully reaching up to stroke her husbands face lovingly.

"Oh believe me I can think of something!" He added winking at the blushing Flora before leaning down to capture her lips at first gently then increasingly passionately cupping her face with his free hand.

However wherever the butler was intending to take his new found luck Flora never got the chance to discover as just things were heating up there was a harsh pounding on the door and before the butler could even utter a sharp come in the door was flung open and in stepped a panting and panicking and now incredibly embarrassed Joseph James.

"Mr Jarvis." He gasped averting his gaze as the housekeeper and butler practically jumped apart. "You have to come quick sir….There's been a fire Sir….Lord Farquerson….He…He's dead!"

By the time Jarvis had raced upstairs after ordering Flora to stay exactly where she was until he knew the situation, he realised he had missed all the action. The smoke was smothering, clouds of grey, stinging fumes lying stagnant along the main corridor and down the grand staircase. The butler's eyes began to water as he loosened his stiff collar, but after trying desperately to battle through the smoke he realised quickly enough that fortunately there wasn't a living soul left and everyone had made it outside.

Joe darted up to him, covering his mouth as he coughed. "Sir, the fire's out, William and Mr Adams managed to put it out, but….well we're not sure what happened….Lord Montague tried to save Lord Farquarson but he couldn't bring him round….they're still trying outside…"

"Why the hell wasn't I notified earlier!" Jarvis boomed, his throat becoming dry and scratchy as they burst through the main door and into the drenched but cooling night air. He breathed in deeply, thankful for the refreshing air bursting into his straining lungs, but his expression remained furious. Out on the drive stood a mixture of aristocrats and servants, all looking bedraggled in the teaming rain, and he might have found this sight slightly amusing if he hadn't been so enraged. It seemed as if everyone else had become involved before anybody even thought to fetch the one in charge of this motley lot. He concluded that there would have to be an investigation, he was so not inconsiderably incandescent with rage.

"Jarvis! Thank God, man!" The Earl snorted, shivering in his soaked pyjamas as his butler marched towards him, turning to stare up at the open window of Lord Farquarson's bedroom. "Cecil's dead, where the hell have you been!"

"I am sorry My Lord." Jarvis replied coolly, glaring at Adams who was still attempting compressions on the dead aristocrat's chest. "I had no idea what was happening."

Jarvis moved quickly towards the desperate scene, his jaw clenching. He could hardly have stern words with his deputy here on the path, Lady Rebecca was inconsolable as Lizzie cradled little Hugo, Lady Caroline was attempting to comfort her but all the while trying to hide her annoyance of having her favourite silk night gown ruined in the rain, and it was obvious that Adams was continuing with the resuscitation attempt simply to stave off the inevitable and thus having Rebecca break down completely.

"Has anyone gone to fetch the police!" Jarvis demanded to know, but the footmen simply stared at each other. It hadn't even occurred to them. At least this was something Jarvis could take control of. "Mr Matkin! Find Johnny Boots, tell him to get on the fastest steed we've got and tell him to get into Tappleton, we need the police and Dr Evans! Quick!"

Fred nodded and dashed off, his footman's uniform blackened and soaked.

"He's…he's dead, sir." Adams said in a small voice, sitting back on the wet gravel and cradling his head in his hands. Rebecca's pretty face turned even paler as her wide eyes brimmed with tears, but all she could manage was a whimper.

"He's not dead until Dr Evans declares him so!" Jarvis replied, glancing over at the lifeless, blackened form of Cecil Farquarson. He was obviously dead, but it wasn't for an unqualified man to say. Instead he tugged off his damp jacket and placed it carefully over the dead man's face as Rebecca finally sobbed into Caroline's shoulder, everyone else looking on in hopeless silence.

"Right, sir." Jarvis felt it his duty to remain as professional as ever, leaning in to mutter to the Earl. "I am going to go back in again if you are agreeable, open windows to clear the smoke so we can get everyone back in as quickly as possible and out of the rain."

The Earl nodded gravely, but he didn't look as if he were about to shed a tear for the loss of his friend, he was far more concerned for his own reputation. "Jarvis listen to me, this can't get out, especially if….well, if it is proved it wasn't as accidental as if may first appear. Just in case, do you understand?"

"Not accidental?" Jarvis raised his eyebrows, but then remembered the terrible atmosphere which had existed between the old lord and the other members of his family currently staying at Taplows. Nevertheless, he was shocked to hear the Earl openly say to him the death may seem suspicious, but glancing over at a very edgy-looking Lord Montgomery he decided it may not be such a ludicrous suggestion after all. "Of course, sir, you can count on my discretion….."

Jarvis may have thought more about it if he hadn't been instantly distracted by a now over-familiar voice exclaiming rather loudly behind him to anyone who would listen: "Yes, it was a most ghastly, the fire was raging but I thought it my duty to save those poor, wretched children from the flames of hell, so without a thought to my own life I ran back into the school. I fought back the flames and the smoke, moved falling planks of wood with my bare hands as the walls crashed in around me, until finally I saw them, their little faces covered in dirt as they coughed and cowered in the corner. I picked up a chair and threw it at the window, shards of glass splintering around me, then using the little strength I had left scooped the children up, one in each arm and leapt out of the window….."

"Sir Rufus." Jarvis cleared his throat, desperately trying to hide a wry smile totally inappropriate for the occasion. Gannon spun round in mid-tale to face the butler and gulped. "As you have such…experience with fires, and daring rescues, would you be so bold and kind as to accompany me into the house to check that the fire is indeed out, and that the building is secure?"

Gannon's jaw dropped open, scanning the hopeful, pleading faces with wide eyes as the rain lightened in a welcome respite. "Er, I, er….." He grinned in a sorry attempt to hide his embarrassment, and if it hadn't been so dark then his blushing might not have gone unnoticed. "Well, really I would Mr…erm…sorry, I've forgotten your name, I'll just call you Butler….I would go in, but….arghh…my ankle….I must have twisted it when I was guiding the ladies here out of the house…."

Lady Caroline snorted at his gall, Gannon suddenly collapsing onto the soaking grass and clutching his ankle in pain. Jarvis' expression instantly turned to one of contempt and he rolled his eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Sir Rufus grimaced in mock agony. "I can try….I can probably stagger to my feet…But ohhhh the pain, what a price to pay for saving the lives of these pretty ladies!" He cast a worried glance up at the late Lord Farquarson's bedroom as the thankfully dying smoke continued to billow.

"You're a bloody fool! You wouldn't even go into the nursery to fetch Hugo when asked, call yourself a hero!" Caroline spat at Sir Rufus before turning to find Julian. "Husband, where are you! This great idiot here nearly knocked me flying trying to get out of the house first, I've never seen a man run so quickly away from danger before!"

By now Lady Mary had begun to shiver, Mrs Diggins complaining as her clothes were soaked through, shakily holding an umbrella over Lady Mary's head in a vain attempt to keep her dry. Jarvis sighed heavily – if it was going to be done then he had better do it himself, even if it was just to let everyone into one of the downstairs rooms until the authorities arrived. With a disgusted glance at Sir Rufus, he turned on his heel and marched towards the house, dragging Adams along with him. He would need more than a word with his wayward under-butler.

Meanwhile, Monty had begun to think the unthinkable. Everyone had heard his arguments with Cecil, the threats, and how convenient that that old man turns up dead? After interviewing everyone the police would surely suspect arson; a murder made to look like a nasty accident with a cigar, and Monty knew in his blood he was going to be prime suspect. He had an alibi, a very firm one at that, but part of him would rather have hanged than put Molly through the heartache of exposure. He needed time to think, his head swam with horrific thoughts and his head pounded so painfully he thought his brain was swelling beneath his skull. He stepped backwards from the small gathering, wanting to turn and run as fast as he could, but he knew that would make him look downright guilty so he had no choice but to wait the arrival of the police. Monty was so engrossed in his own thoughts he barely heard Rebecca walk up behind him.

"Monty, we need to talk." She whispered tearfully, watching as Jarvis gave the reluctant go-head to let everyone back into the house and out of the drizzle. Rebecca thought she might be sick as she watched Will and Joe carry her father's portly body back inside, and she barely wished to think where they were about to put him until Dr Evans arrived.

"Rebecca, I'm so, so sorry about Cecil. He was a good man." Monty mumbled, hanging his head.

Rebecca sniffed and produced a bitter smile. "I know you don't mean that, and I don't blame you. I loved my father, I really did, but he tried my patience too much. It ended so badly between us, if only I could turn back the clock…." She suddenly sobbed again, tears and rain smudging down her pretty face as her brother-in-law drew her into a hug. If either had seen the look which had appeared on Lady Caroline's face the moment Monty comforted Rebecca with a physical gesture, they may have wondered if the suspicious situation they now found themselves in was actually far worse than they thought.

"Listen." Rebecca whispered, keeping her head low. Her sobbing stopped instantly, there were far more pressing things to be concerned about than her own grief. She had reputations and lives to save so she had to act fast.

"Monty, I was there for the argument between father and yourself, and I know how it might have sounded to other people. I'm not stupid, I know what the police may think."

"I'm innocent!" Monty hissed desperately, turning Rebecca so they both faced away from the house and out into the black void which was the surrounding land. "I was with Mrs Wat….." Suddenly Monty's mouth snapped shut as he cursed his own idiocy. After all Rebecca had told him in the orangery he decided his brain must have become confused as he had felt so at ease in her company. Perhaps he should have finished the sentence, made some lie up at the end, but it was too late.

Rebecca gaped at him, her tears now drying on her cheeks. She lowered her voice to an almost inaudable whisper. "I know you are innocent, I was about to ask you if you had an alibi – now I know who my father meant, it's true isn't it? You are secretly liaising with someone? And that someone is Andrew's sister!"

Monty was struck by the growing excitement in Rebecca's voice and her eyes lit up. He might have laughed if the situation hadn't been so incredibly hopeless.

"Oh I'm such a cad." Monty sighed. "What have I done to your sister?"

Rebecca gasped. "Oh, Francesca, we must get word to her about Papa…..I just don't understand how the fire happened….I feel so terrible, so responsible!"

"It wasn't your fault!" Monty protested. "You know how your father used to like to smoke cigars in bed! He probably dropped ash, didn't realise, set himself alight."

Rebecca's expression hardened. "You need an alibi, one you can give to the police. I could ask Andrew….."

"No!" Monty protested, shaking his head. "I couldn't ask that, this is something I need to solve on my own. I don't want you involved, Becca. You've a son to think about."

"But what if the police think it was me! What if they find out Father was being so controlling, that we had argued about Hugo's future? For all his faults I still loved him, he was my father, I wouldn't wish to hurt him!"

"Of course not." Monty soothed as he lead her back towards the house. "And I'm sure nobody, including the police, will suspect you at all. Why would they? They won't know about Andrew….."

The worst, most horrific thought suddenly crossed Rebecca's mind, and she clasped her hand over her mouth. Andrew! No, surely not, it can't be, she thought. Her heart was beating so hard against her rib cage she thought she might crack a bone. He would NEVER do such a terrible thing, no matter how desperate the situation had got. She knew him too well – but she also knew he could be a hot-headed Adams, doing things before thinking them through was often their family trait. Rebecca had heard things from gossiping servants, how he would like to give that William Forest a good hiding from time to time. That certainly wasn't the gentle, caring Scot she had come to know and love, he was always so loving towards her that maybe she saw him only how he wanted her to see him.

It would make sense, her father was about to ruin both of them, as well as little Hugo's future, and she wasn't about to underestimate the power of a man's hate towards another who threatened to destroy the people he loved. Her thoughts were busily going round and round in circles as Grace and Hettie fetched tea for the gathering aristocrats in the drawing room. It was by now the small hours, but all Rebecca wanted to do was to find Andrew and be comforted by him. The police, and Dr Evans, would soon arrive and the night wasn't about to be over for a long time yet.


	7. Episode 6a

Next morning, chaos flooded the house. Most of the staff had spent the night running around, doing what they could to help the snooping officers or waiting on the Earl's complaining guests. Breakfast was of course lay on the table promptly, however the dash to the table was not as mad as usual. It seemed their superiors had more important things on their mind than allowing them to go to breakfast. Therefore most people would quickly scuttle in, grabbing something to eat, before dashing out again before anyone caught them lacking their duties.

There was a few though who seemed to have dismissed their chores completely, preferring to sit round the table and listen to the gossip around. The main gossipmonger was as usual Fredrick Matkin, who was warning all the ladies around the table to be warned and keep their eyes peeled for the murderer. Fred was at the moment expounded that if any of them felt in any danger at any time that they were to come to him.

"Oh really Fred?" Will snorts, picking up the conversation as he entered, "what are you going to do, cover them in wig powder or will it be shoe polish?"

"Oh shut up Will-" he begins, but is cut off by an intrigued Annie, who was desperate to learn anything else he knew.

"Why would someone what to kill such an upstanding gentleman?"

"Upstanding?" Fred chuckles, glancing at Will in hope of pulling him into the conversation. Will however wasn't listening to a word that was being said. He was too busy backing towards the door again, preferring to make a quick exit and miss breakfast, than have Lizzie catch up with him.

"William!" She hisses, as he quickly turns and makes a break for it out of the room, Lizzie dashes after him, ignoring all the curious looks she was getting from the present maids. "William!" She exclaims grabbing his arm and pulling him to a stand still. "I can't believe how careless you can be!"

"Alright, what have I done now?" He asks, rolling his eyes at her.

"Hmmmmmm? Where should I begin?" She replies, tapping her chin and pretending to think hard. "Firstly you leave that poor little child with Johnny last night. Johnny!"

"What was I supposed to do? Take him with me and say to Adams, 'oh Mr Adams could you possibly hold this god damn child for me while put out this fire'?" He snaps angrily at her, fed up with her constant moaning at him, as if he could do nothing right. She was getting worse than her father…he may have thought this but he'd never actually dare saying it to her.

"Well…surely you could have found someone more suitable than Johnny! That child must have been alone for hours while you ran around upstairs and Johnny dashed off into town to fetch the police and Dr. Evans. Anything could have happened to him!" She rants, only stopping when she heard Will yawn loudly and saw him raise it eyebrow with a look that said 'Do I look like I care?'

"Don't give me that look William Forest! Where's the child now?" She scowls at him.

"Up in the footmen's room," he mutters, lowering his head to stare at the floor, preparing to cover his ears as she exploded.

"Oh great thinking Will! So now that you've got that all planned out, tell me what you are planning to say to Mr Jarvis or Mr Adams if they go in that room and find a child sat there on your bed, alone?"

"Well I…um…I…"

"As I thought," she hisses, glaring him. "He can't stay in there all day every day Will! Someone is going to notice he is there! In fact you are bloody lucky Fred has got something more interesting to gossip about this morning…that leaves you until at least this afternoon to do something about the child before word gets out, you know Fred won't keep this to himself for long."

"That bloody Charlie will probably get in before him, he'd love a reason to tell Jarvis on me," Will hisses bitterly, before suddenly exclaiming, "oh Liz, what am I going to do!"

"Don't worry about it Will we'll think of something, but he can't stay up in that room, the chance of someone finding him is too high…" she trails off, thinking hard. "You go back upstairs and take it to the laundry, it's usually empty on a Sunday. We can both check on him throughout the day to make sure he doesn't wander off."

"I doubt he'll be doing too much wandering," Will chortles under his breath.

""Meanwhile I'll go tell the footmen to keep their mouth's shut!" She cuts across Will's unamusing joke.

"Well good luck with that," Will snorts, smiling broadly as he noticed the corners of Lizzie's mouth twitch ever so slightly. "Lizzie!" He calls, as she turns to re-enter the dining room.

"Yes?" She asks curiously, swinging back round to face him.

"Ummm…thanks…" he mutters awkwardly, positively beaming as Lizzie smiled gently at him before leaning up and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He blushed furiously, swallowing as he saw the livid looking Andrew Adams come into view, followed closely by his sister. "Elizabeth?" He hisses through gritted teeth. Taking this as his cue to quickly disappear he directed one last glare in the direction of the under-housekeeper, his thoughts travelling to the conversation with Mrs Corey the evening before, before rushing upstairs.

"What was that all about?" Andrew asks suspiciously, clenching his fists as his daughter ignored his question, preferring to make her way back into the servants hall.

"Please just leave it Andrew," Molly whispers, rubbing at her throbbing head as they followed Lizzie into the room.

"Well it has to be someone upstairs!" One of the maids was exclaiming to Fred, who nodded, feigning a pensive look.

"If you ask me it's someone close to a certain daughter of the victim," Fred whispered, smirking as all the faces around him lit up.

"Nooooo!" Someone shouted.

"But who?" Annie asked, unable to believe her ears.

"Well…" Fred began, "we all know about her little argument with her father only hours before he sadly passed away."

"That is quite enough of that, Mr Matkin!" Andrew bellowed, quickly picking up on the subject of their conversation as he entered.

"And there was the few sharp words that passed between himself and Lord Hamilton-Hussey," he murmured, ignoring Adams.

"Mr Matkin," Adams warned, as he heard his sister's sharp intake of breath from behind him.

"And from what I saw from the sparks between her and Lord Monty last night I certainly wouldn't put it past him to knock him off in order to prevent her receiving any more pain and upset."

"Fred I think you better shut your mouth before you get yourself into serious trouble," Joe hisses at him, also noticing Molly's distress.

"I was only voicing my opinion," Fred mutters bitterly. It was bad enough Adams telling him to shut up but he really didn't need it coming from Joe too.

Adams settled himself down at the head of the table, deep in thought…Fred had just mentioned the one thing that had been playing on his mind all night. He'd never even suggest such a thing to anyone, but when he had been thinking about suspects himself Lord Montague was the first person to crop up in his head. It wasn't just the fact that his lordship and the now deceased lord had had a fight…but he too couldn't help thinking that perhaps this was to do with Rebecca.

Before his sister's revelation last night there would have been no doubt in his head, Cecil Farquarson had mentioned himself about Monty's mistress. But even after leaning Monty and his sister were lovers, that didn't completely rule out the fact that perhaps he cared for his Rebecca more than anyone had ever guessed.

Sighing deeply he glanced up favouring his sister with an encouraging smile. Before his gaze fell on his daughter who was momentarily whispering something in Mr Matkin's ear…just what was that girl up too? Sipping his tea he concluded that this wasn't anything to do with Cecil Farquarson's death unless Lizzie was stirring something. One thing was for sure he was going to find out exactly what was going on right away.

- - - - -

It had been one of the worst days of her career so far, not only had they a death to deal with, but it had come at the worst possible time when the house was full to bursting with half of England's lords and ladies, all of whom had plunged very vocally into unanimous mourning. As a result whilst Walter and Molly were busy tending his lordship and assisting the local constabulary it once more fell to her to sort out all the other details, after all just because someone had died it didn't mean meals weren't being prepared or rooms cleaned, and as his lordship had banned her from showing herself above stairs whilst his guests were floating about she a doubly difficult task on her hands. Striding down the corridor from her office where she had been ensconced all morning juggling the staffing rotas and making sure each bell pull had been answered as quickly as humanly possible Flora decided that it was time she allowed herself a quick break and set off intent on finding either Felix or Emily and allowing them to fuss over her for a few minutes, an act that at first she had abhorred but now to her silent shame realised she was beginning to enjoy.

It was as she was wandering to the kitchen nodding absently at the maids who flitted past hurrying about their duties that she caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, a certain Elizabeth McDuff leaving the laundry in such a hurry she didn't even shut the door properly. Sighing to herself she mentally noted to remind the girl of the importance of security before turning round and walking down the side corridor to close the door properly herself. However just as she was about to do so there was a soft thump from inside the dark room; confused as to who could possibly be in the laundry on a Sunday of all days she paused for a moment popping her head round the door as she scanned the darkened room. "Is anybody in here?" She called out, a frown gracing her normally placid brow when no one replied. Huffing to herself she backed back into the corridor her hand tugging the door to a close when suddenly there was another clatter from inside the room.

Immediately alert she pushed the door open, perhaps it was one of the policemen doing a search but if it was why hadn't they acknowledged her presence, of course it could just be Monty, of the terrier variety, out harrying her sheets again putting yet more holes in his lordships finest damask which of course she would get the blame for.

"Monty get your snotty slavering nose out of my laundry baskets!" Flora hissed striding into the room her eyes scanning the dark corners. "Monty…Here boy!" She added trying to sound up beat but all the while her suspicion mounting, if it wasn't a police-officer and it wasn't Monty sniffing about then who the hell could it be? Surely at such a time none of her staff would have even considered sneaking off for a quick canoodle? Could that be why Lizzie was leaving in such a hurry whilst her beau sat waiting in the shadows waiting the appropriate time before slipping out himself?

"Whose there come on out and show yourself!...Might I remind you you're in enough trouble as it is Mr Forest!" She added stepping further into the room and spotting what had made the clatter, leaning against the wall she reached down and picked up the small red ball staring at it in confusion.

"Just where did you come from?" She muttered passing the shiny red toy from one hand to the other before another flash of movement caught her eye, whirling round she gasped raising her free hand to her mouth as she lent against the wall for support.

"Ba…" The toddler called out stumbling towards her his chubby little hand stretching up towards the ball in her other hand taking only a few hesitant steps before landing firmly back on his bottom, sitting almost stunned for a moment before his chubby face creased up and tears gathered in his eyes.

"Oh no.." Flora gasped striding forward as her maternal instincts kicked into overdrive. "Here now don't cry you can have your ball back." She whispered soothingly picking up the unresisting toddler and settling him down on what remained of her hip, the sudden change of scenery jolting him out of the impending crying fit.

"See not so bad…" She added moving him further into the laundry and placing the now curious little man on the table so she could get a proper look at him. "Now then what are you doing in here?" She asked more to herself than the child who nevertheless appeared to regard her and her question thoughtfully, his thumb making its way back to his mouth as his eyes took her in.

The eyes were unmistakable, a definite family trait, Flora noted unable to resist the urge to smirk as she wondered what the hell Mr Forest had gotten himself into this time, he couldn't be Lizzie's surely? After all she only went up to Scotland six months ago, and Flora was damned certain that she would know if any of her girls where that far gone. Of course she could have had him before she arrived at Taplows but then how could the boy be William's, and that connection was unmistakable!

"Someone is going to do some explaining and it is going to have to be very very good, isn't it little man." She added reaching out and brushing the lads dark fringe out of his eyes, smiling as he reached out and caught her fingers favouring her with a full toothy grin which she couldn't help but return causing him to giggle slightly releasing her hand and opening his arms as a clear sign he wanted to be picked up and carried.

"Well it can't hurt can it?" Flora whispered conspiratorially to the toddler before picking him up from the table and positioning him on her hip once more smiling in delight as the child spontaneously threw his arms round her neck burying his head into her shoulder before glancing up then hiding again when he caught Flora's gaze, this game of peek-a-boo continuing until he was unable to contain his giggles or Flora hers. "Well we can't go leaving you in here its not safe so perhaps until we find your daddy, and give him a flea in his ear about leaving children unattended and find out just what the hell he thinks he's playing at, you had better stay with me." Flora muttered almost laughing out loud at the sound of her own voice as she continued to talk in the stupidest baby voice whirling round intent on returning to her office child in tow when a red faced and panicking Elizabeth McDuff burst back through the door a covered tray almost going flying up in the air as she caught sight of young William balanced securely and contentedly on a very stern looking housekeeper's hip.

"Miss McDuff I suggest you start talking!" Flora snapped her terrifying demeanour somewhat lessoned when she reached over and retrieved the stray wisps of hair from the toddlers eager grasp.

- - - - -

Meanwhile, upstairs, things were also about to get a lot more complicated. The Police had been in a permanent state of residence since being alerted at little after four that morning. Of course this was some two hours after the alarm had actually been raised, as from that moment, Taplows had been plunged into an (almost) unprecedented state of emergency. A quick-thinking Jarvis had considered, under the circumstances, that Dr Evans should be Johnny's first port of call, naturally assuming the police involvement would be a mere formality. Indeed, after a fair few far-fetched conclusions were jumped to by the obvious candidates, the general consensus had now settled down to a more mundane, certainly more predictable presumption, that the old man had simply liked his brandy and cigars a little too much.

At present the house was a wash with sergeants, socialites and servants, all with their own take on the previous night's tragic event, all wanting to know what went on. Unsurprisingly the first floor of the East wing had been cordoned off while officers continued to adduce what they could from what little remained of Lord Farquason's bedchamber. Subsequently, guests who were not in occupation of the adjacent rooms were being asked, as politely as possible (in light of initial replies) to use other means of returning to them, in many cases, this meant going via rather less grandeur staircases than those they were accustomed to, dodging servants who'd never been above stairs, as they went.

Those accommodated in the immediate vicinity of the room, including a now more sedate Lady Rebecca were, as a matter of routine, helping the Police with their enquiries. Consequently, Mr Adams was hovering around the main foyer, trying to make himself look busy, whilst he actually edged closer and closer to the door of the morning room, in which Rebecca was being questioned.

Directly across from his deputy, the Butler stood at the foot of the grand staircase, barking out his orders to his hapless employees who were frantically scurrying about carrying a multitude of beverages, some very much stronger than others to 'calm fraught nerves', despite the fact it was still only just gone half eight. For some time now he had, amongst barking, been conducting a slightly more placid conversation with the newly arrived Inspector, whilst keeping one the flow of staff, the other firmly on Adams whom he noted was looking far from calm and collected.

So far they had simply gone through the basic sequence of events as it was known, Lord Farquason had been in attendance at the party but had retired early to bed shortly after eleven, made a brief reappearance around twenty minutes later to retrieve the rather prized bottle of single malt whiskey he'd left in the drawing room the previous evening, called for assistance provided by a Mr William Forrest just after midnight…

It was at this stage Jarvis had to admit, things became a little hazy, he was unable to account for the Lord Farquason's exact movements, as the evening began to wind down about half twelve, and as he had already retired, the attention of the staff turned to the other eighty or so guests now requiring their warm milks. Whilst respecting the fact that a Butler would have to deploy his staff as best he could in the circumstances, Inspector Briggs continued to press for any additional information that may stand out.

Just as Jarvis was about to reply (for the umpteenth time) that he was sorry, but he couldn't assist him any further at present, the Inspector begged to be excused for a moment, as one of his own subordinates requested his attention. At this Jarvis forced a somewhat strained smile as he politely obliged before starting to stride across the room towards a visibly and increasingly irate Scotsman, cursing as he did so at being asked to make himself scarce in his own house.

However, half way there he was ground to a halt, as a voice rang out ''Mr Jarvis!'

Sighing deeply, briefly wishing he'd never been born, Jarvis pivoted on his heels and rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration, he turned round to face a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Charles Lewis heading towards him.

'Couldn't this wait Lewis, I'm in the middle of something?' he snapped, his contorted face loosening a little on seeing the reaction to his sharp-tongue.

Charles was wearing the sort of expression not uncommonly observed in children just after they've discovered the rather weighty object in the bottom of their stocking is indeed a lump of coal, only smaller than last years. 'Uh … I … I'm sorry Sir.' he stammered.

Fighting the urge to grind his teeth, Jarvis took a deep breath before replying more affably 'Its alright lad, its just …' he trailed off feeling too tried and tired to continue 'Do, go on' he prompted doing his best to conceal the fact he was yawning.

'Very good Sir' Charles fawned, miraculously snapping out of his hard-done-by routine. 'Its just …' pausing as he realised the Butler wasn't taking a blind bit of notice, but was staring over his shoulder. On following his superior's lead, he glanced back over his own shoulder to see the under-butler all but peering through the keyhole of the drawing room. He readjusted his line of vision back to see a rather puzzled Jarvis, obviously deep in thought.

In order to break the Butler's concentrated stare, Charles resorted to a non-so-subtle cough, which more than did the trick. Not only did it snap Jarvis out of his trance, but it drew to Adams' attention the fact that he was under surveillance, which was not well received as the under-butler let out a decisive grunt, before reverting back to pacing up and down outside the door.

'Well, spit it out boy!' Jarvis demanded, clearly a little agitated, certainly uncomfortable that Adams had caught them.

'Well, sir, I just thought-'

'Urgh Mr Jarvis.' Inspector Briggs interjected in a rather impatiently 'If I could have a word please?'

'Certainly' the butler replied, immediately following the police officer a few paces towards the staircase. 'Are almost finished?' he continued hopefully, with more than a tinge of a hint in his voice as he rather overtly checked the time on the grandfather clock in the hallway.

'Not quite, it appears we could well be here a while longer'

Give me strength Jarvis thought, his sentiments clearly displayed by his facial expression.

'Believe me, if this were a clear cut case we'd be on our way, we're quite efficient Mr Jarvis.' The Inspector sternly reminded him.

'Well forgive me sir, but it doesn't get much more clean cut than this, its blatantly obvious what happened.'

'Is it Mr Jarvis?' the Inspector countered

'Well, one would think so!' Jarvis taunted.

'Really, well tell me Sir, in your considered opinion, who should I charge with the murder?

'Well that's obv-' he started before grinding to a halt as the words sank in, his eyes widening as he began to fully comprehend.

'Now do I have your consent to carry out the remainder of my investigation?'

'What? Murder? How, w- who?'

'That's what I was hoping you could tell me, though I doubt you could. The fact of the matter is Mr Jarvis, my esteemed colleague Sergeant Dorkins has just informed me of some rather interesting findings of the preliminary post-mortem, which … may well keep us here some time.' Adding the last part with a rather satisfied smirk.

'Wh-what information? What's happened?' Jarvis quizzed glancing between the two officers.

'Oh come now Mr Jarvis, now that would be telling!' Briggs goaded.

'But I'm the butler, I'm in charge, surely I should be informed!' Jarvis protested, looking to Sergeant Dorkins.

'Sorry, no can do Im afraid, wouldn't want any telling information to fall into the wrong hands now would we? Tell me Mr Jarvis, can you think of anyone who may have had any reason to harm Lord Farquason, any reason at all …?' he trailed off rather accusingly.

'No I most certainly could not!' he objected.

'Pitty. Any one at all?' Briggs probed.

'Well I .. I …' Jarvis started, instinctively looking around the room, any where apart from at Briggs. His eyes didn't roam of long, as he spied Adams still standing outside the drawing room, currently putting the fear of god into a maid who'd asked him how to get to the library. For a moment Jarvis just stood, in shock at having received such unexpected news, however, as his numb mind thawed, he remembered the ultimatum he had issued his deputy with only days before, and his reaction to being informed that Lord Farquason knew of his relationship with Lady Rebecca.

However, before his thoughts could reluctantly travel any further down that path any further, he felt a tap on his shoulder, swinging round in a reflex action, he saw Charles Lewis practically tugging at his jacket.

'Mr Jarvis sir.'

'Not now Lewis!' Jarvis warned.

'But Sir, that's what I was trying to tell you!'

'Tell me what!' he hollered after glancing at the two, thoroughly un-amused officers.

'Tell you that Mr Forrest-'

'I don't care what Mr Forrest is doing Mr Lew-'

'But he had a motive!'

'Excuse me?' Jarvis and Briggs chimed in unison.

'Forrest, last night, he had a massive row with his lordship Sir'

'A Mr … William Forrest who attended Lord Farquason shortly after midnight?' Briggs enquired, after consulting his notes.

'Yes Inspector.'

'And what was the nature of this 'row'?'

'Well, from what I heard, he was absolutely livid about it, came back downstairs and tore his wig off so harshly he managed to pull a clump out.'

'Yes, yes, but what was this argument about?'

'Well um …' Charles hesitated, glancing at a livid Jarvis who held his head in his hand, his other liberally waving for Charles to get it over with.

'It appears he was caught upstairs with one of the maids'

'Oh Christ' Jarvis gasped, turning his back on the party to wipe his hand down his now sweat coated face.

'Caught by Farquason?' Dorkins supplied.

'Yes, his Lordship told the girl to pack her bags, Will was absolutely furious, said later he wanted to give him more than a piece of his mind'

'I'll bet he did' Briggs replied, furiously scribbling down notes, which Jarvis hadn't a hope in hell of catching a glimpse of. 'Is that all Mr …?'

'Yes that's all' Charles answered quickly, he didn't want to give his name as long as he didn't have to, he knew he wasn't too popular downstairs as it was, he dreaded to think what they'd do to a whistleblower 'All I know anyway, you'd have to ask Will'

'Oh don't worry, I intend to.' Briggs assured him. 'Mr Jarvis, if you'd be so kind, a word with your errant First Footman if you will?'

Furious at not being informed of this before, Walter Corey glared from Biggs to Dorkins, to Charles, to Adams as he stormed passed on his way to retrieve the wanted man.

- - - - -

Downstairs, Flora Corey didn't have her man, but she had the next best thing. She'd spent at least the last ten minutes tearing strips off Lizzie, whilst doing her best to keep her voice and her temper down, as she could tell it was unsettling the little one.

'So your telling me he just appeared, out of no where!'

'Well ….' Lizzie hesitated

'Well what Miss McDuff, Im sure Mr Forrest didn't give birth to him himself!'

'No Mrs Corey, of course he didn't, Im just … Im not too sure where he's come from, she was only here a matter of minutes, then she just took off!'

Of course she had been wholly frivolous in suggesting Will had produced the child himself, but for all her scolding remarks, she hadn't stopped to think who the mother was. 'Well, who was 'she'?

'I don't know, I'd never seen her before, she didn't tell me her name!'

'But surely there must be something you remember about her, girl!'

'Well, what I could, I told Johnny …' she trailed off, noticing the roll of the housekeeper's eyes. 'He didn't seem to know, but … but … it was Charles who worked it out'

'Charles knew her!' Flora remarked in disbelief.

'Well, he said he knew of her. I thought he was asleep, but then he sat up in his bed and suggested her name was Esther-'

'Esther! Oh Chri-!' Flora hissed as she stepped back to stride round the room, bouncing the little one up and down on her hip as she went. Esther, of course, how could she have been so stupid? How could Will have been so stupid! How … how did Lizzie catch Charles in bed! 'Miss McDuff, what were you doing in the footman's room?'

Slightly being taken aback at this question, as this wasn't rally the issue, Lizzie spluttered 'I was trying to find Will' she paused noticing and 'I bet you were' disapproving glance from her superior, who really wasn't one to talk herself, but Lizzie had less than no desire to think about that again.

'And you didn't find him?'

'No, I couldn't, he wasn't there!'

'Well he shouldn't have been there should he, there were guests awaiting his service'

'Yes, well, that's why he wasn't there, he was attending Lord … Lord Farquason'.

'Lord Farquason? But Tom is his valet.' The housekeeper pointed out.

'Yes, I know, but he said there was no one available'

'Tom is always available, that's what he's paid for is specifically to wait on Lord Farquason … well, was' she corrected herself, hutching the child back up onto her hip as he was sliding down. 'Why did Will go instead?'

Lizzie had more than a sneaking suspicion why he might have gone, a sneaking suspicion which rapidly turned into a rather unpleasant realisation, based on the recollection of the extremely heated situation she had left behind when she fled down the stairs.

'I mean just what did he think he was doing, taking care of his Lordship?' Flora continued.

By now, a very dark and very frightening feeling was beginning to build in the pit of the maid's stomach – he couldn't, he, he wouldn't she told herself as she tried to block out her initial thought last night when Johnny told her Will had been up there for a good while and when he came back down he was looking rather dishevelled and highly disconcerted.

Suddenly her legs began to move as if independent from her body, her mind unable to decipher the housekeeper's continued words and endless question as she drifted to wards the door, blindly groping out for the handle as her thoughts raced.

'Urgh Miss McDuff what do you think you are doing?' the housekeeper hollered, just loudly enough to entice Lizzie from her trance.

'Forgive me Mrs Ry- M… Mrs Corey, I have to …' she gasped, staring tenaciously at the small child in her superior's arms, before turning on her heels and fleeing through the now open door, the sweeping sense of horror depriving her of coherent speech or rational thought. All she could do was find him, and make him tell her he hadn't done anything stupid.

- - - - -

Half an hour later a now incredibly concerned Flora Corey was pacing up and down in her office glancing across at the toddler who was playing contentedly on her fireside rug with his little red ball hidden from the general gaze of those who scurried past by the large dining table. At first Lizzie had seemed reluctant to hand the child over to her, and for a moment Flora could have sworn she had spotted a flash of rebellious malice in the girls eyes, almost as though she resented the housekeepers interference and obvious rapport with the little chap. But then just as soon as the flash appeared it had disappeared leaving almost a look of blank resignation as the meek girl offered to go find Will for her and have him report to her office, what had followed was a brief struggle to smuggle the child unobserved along the corridor and into the relative safety of her office.

Suddenly there was a brief knock on her door and on whirling round expecting to see Will's sheepish head poking round her door she became suddenly alarmed spotting her husbands fair countenance.

"Walter darling!" She exclaimed loudly striding over to the door holding it firmly before slipping out into the corridor much to the butler's surprise.

"I was just coming to say hello…Any chance you're free for a spot of tea?" Her husband asked hopefully his hand moving to the doorknob to usher her back in.

"Oh not now my dearest I'm in the middle of something…."

"Well nothing to stop me sitting in and having a breather?" Walter replied pushing the door open and stepping round her to enter.

"Wait!" She exclaimed grabbing him firmly by the lapels and pushing him back against the door planting her lips firmly against his and kissing him breathlessly whilst her stunned husband took a moment to recover before returning her kiss just as passionately his hands moving to cup her face gently as he deepened the kiss losing himself in her embrace. "Flora?" He gasped breathlessly when they pulled apart but the now panicking housekeeper had no idea what to say to explain her bizarre behaviour and so decided to delay the inevitable by kissing him once more an action that the butler did not object to.

It was a pointed cough that dragged the now panting pair apart. "Mrs Ry..Corey you…eh..wanted to see me?" A worried and somewhat red faced Will piped up earning him a scathing look from the butler which told him just where he wanted to send the footman at that particular moment.

"Not now Forest can't you see we're…"

"Busy?" The footman interjected bravely, earning him another death glare from the butler which told him quite plainly to watch his step or he would be back to scrubbing out old lady Mary's bedpan with only a penny of soap and a motheaten old rag to work with.

"No you're quiet right Mr Forest I did need a word…In private if you don't mind Walter." She added earning her a puzzled and somewhat uncomfortable glare from her husband, a clear warning that he was hardly happy with that arrangement. "It won't take long perhaps if you still want that tea break you'd care to meet me afterwards…. Upstairs perhaps." She added in a quiet whisper before planting a suggestive peck on her husbands cheek causing a beaming smile to suddenly break out on his face as he exhaled loudly through his nose shooting her a bashful glance before winking knowingly.

"I'll see you then Mrs Corey…Don't be too long now!" He added unable to resist slipping his hand down and grabbing a quick handful before patting her rump suggestively and then striding off down the corridor.

"You owe me one Mr Forest…No you owe me more than that and by the time you finish paying those favours I suspect you'll have more than one grey hair of your own!" Flora hissed pushing her door back open and ushering the now bashed footman inside shutting the door firmly behind them.

"He's here!" Will suddenly exclaimed stopping dead a few feet inside the doorway so that the flustered housekeeper almost walked into him.

"Yes HE is!" Flora retorted moving round the frozen footman towards her desk and the child who was now gazing at the newcomers with a look of intense curiosity, a bright beaming smile pulling at his lips when he recognised the housekeeper immediately crawling towards her. "What I want to know Mr Forest is just who he is, what is his relationship to you and what in the name of merciful heaven is this child doing at Taplows of all places!" Flora snapped causing the toddler to pull back in surprise tears springing to his eyes as he shyed away cowering as if he expected more than just harsh words to fall.

"Oh no sweetheart its not you…" Flora cooed lowering herself gingerly to the floor and trying to persuade the now shaking child to return from under her desk. "I would never hurt you I promise." She added holding out her arms as the wary youngster edged towards her pulling him firmly on to what was left of her lap after her huge belly was taken into account.

"I'm still waiting Mr Forest." Flora reminded the stationary footman once she had settled his son. "Start explaining."

"I don't know much myself Mrs Corey. I mean what with all the chaos last night no one saw her arrive and leave him…"

"Who Mr Forest?" Flora asked gently rocking the child who was contentedly playing with the lace on her dress.

"Well you do the math." Will retorted absently playing with the papers so he didn't have look at the two of them sitting contentedly by the fire, his 'son' and the only woman he had ever truly loved. "That and the fact he looks just like the little witch!" He added spitefully causing Flora to study the child closely for any distinctive parental resemblance but all she could see was a miniature version of Will himself.

"He looks like a Forest to me but if I was to hazard a guess…Miss Spicer?"

"Bingo!" Will hissed slapping his hand down on the tabletop before turning to look at her. "See he has her mouth, nose I can't bare to look at the little ba…"

"Mr Forest!" Flora exclaimed aghast at his outburst. "Regardless of his legitimacy or his mother he is your son, so what are you going to do about it?"

"Honestly?" Will asked moving round the desk but still keeping a safe distance from his son who viewed him with a wary air before returning to his game of lets grab the brooch. "I haven't got a clue…Workhouse I suppose?"

"NO!" Flora shrieked startling the little boy her lap who she quickly had to smother in kisses to get him to shush. "Will he's your son you have a respon…"

"Oh not you as well, first Lizzie now you!"

"Well I'm glad someone has tried to talk some sense into you even if she apparently hasn't been that successful!"

"Flora…"

"No don't you Flora me Mr Forest! May I remind you it was only seven or so months ago that you came up to me thinking I was carrying your child and you told me that you wouldn't walk away from that responsibility! Are you telling me that you lied to me then? Or had you conveniently forgotten that promise?"

"No." Will muttered glancing across at her his eyes flickering across at her, taking in her large belly and his son cradled in her arms. "I hadn't forgotten."

"So what's the bloody difference? This is your child or were your words before just for show?

"No but this…This is different, this is Esther's child and not ours!" Will snapped.

"He's still your son! And you can't even look at him can you? Have you even held him yet?"

"No"

"Well don't you think you should try and spend some time with him before you make such a momentous decision, don't you owe him that, its not his fault his mother was…."

"An ugly lil tart?" Will cut in earning him a scathing glare from the housekeeper.

"Well you picked her!" She retorted smartly. "No one forced you to sleep with her, and you must have realized what might have happened?"

"Aye I never seem to have much luck with women now I do I, the ones I don't want can't seem to get enough of me and then the ones I like…well they seem to run a mile into the arms of the nearest other man!" Will added bitterly.

"That's not his fault…Will you have to at least try! Whether you wanted it or not you are a father and he needs you won't you at least try to make this work?" Flora pleaded moving a hand to pat the space beside her on the rug watching as the nervous footman moved to sit a good few feet away from her his eyes now locked on the little boy who was gazing at him so intently while he sucked nervously on his fist.

"Hello there little Phillip." Will whispered in such a formal tone Flora wouldn't have been surprised if he had moved to shake the boys hand as well.

"Well at least he's not another William." Flora muttered. "I should have known when he tried to pull the threads out of my sewing, any boy that mischievous just had to be a true Forest." Flora teased watching as Will watched his son intently before reaching out and gingerly brushing the lads long fringe out of his eyes.

"Did you hear that Phil my boy she's casting aspersions on our good name…He has my eyes." He added suddenly unable to keep the throaty tone from his voice.

"Yes I had noticed." Flora replied gently easing the child off her lap and into the space between them watching as Will began to interact with his son, rolling the red ball towards him and watching with delight as the child pounced on it before holding it out to the surprised Will who repeated the action again and again until the child grew bolder and then clambered onto his lap just as proprietarily as he did with Flora.

"I think he likes you." Flora giggled watching as the fascinated child began to tug on Will's hair before fiddling with the nice shiny buttons on his waistcoat.

"He's not so bad himself….Flora I…"

"What?"

"How can I do this, its not fair on him, I can't work and look after him and its not like I have…Well you know someone special who would be prepared to raise him with me. He needs a proper mother figure something he's obviously been lacking I mean just look at the way he's taken to you, he knows a good mother when he sees one and I bet he'd kick up quite a stink if I tried to take him away from you."

Shifting around to get comfortable Flora raised a suspicious eyebrow at the comment. "What about Miss McDuff, she seems to have taken an avid interest in the child, quite possessive of him in fact. Why I practically had to cut the apron strings to get her to leave him with me and go do her duties." She added watching to footman's reactions carefully surprised to feel a slight twinge when he blushed at the mention of the girls name but being unable to leave it alone she probed further. "I've seen that blush before Will, don't tell me a certain footman has an admirer?"

"What if I have, I mean Lizzie and I have always been close, there was a time I'd hoped for more but…You're not bothered by that are you? Me talking about her cause…"

"Of course not!" Flora snapped but she couldn't meet his curious gaze preferring to fuss over young Phillip who now had his sleepy head resting in her lap.

"Then why can't you look me in the eye?"

"Look Will its nothing really I just wanted to know, I mean the way she looks at me sometimes, if looks could kill…"

"You'd be six feet under?" Will sniggered.

"Don't laugh it'd be more like sixteen, I'm just worried lest dead animals start appearing in my bed and I have to find a way of explaining them to Walter. So if you think I had better steer clear of a certain ladies maid as I wouldn't want to go ruining your chances."

"Do you really think she might you know give me another chance?"

Smiling broadly as she stroked the child's soft brown hair whilst he dozed she replied simply. "Well how could she resist that Forest charm?"

"Oh really? Are you sure because it seems to be a little rusty to me."

"Oh right so women aren't fainting dead at your feet anymore then?"

"Well not every day like they used to!" Will retorted wistfully reaching out and stroking his son's cheek his hand unintentionally brushing against hers for a moment before she hastily retracted it.

"Are you sure it's not just you who are ignoring them? And to think you were at once Taplows premier skirt chaser!" Flora added quickly to fill the awkward silence that had descended.

"Personally I like to think that I've matured not chasing everything in a skirt like before… I stopped all that when the last bit I was chasing stopped running for me and since then I've not really been interested in chasing anyone else."

"I didn't realize Miss McDuff was such a challenge." Flora snorted glancing up at that moment and catching the serious look on his face as he gazed at her.

"I wasn't taking about Liz." Will whispered. "I think you know very well just who I am talking about Mrs Ryan or at least you should she's only the most beautiful creature the almighty ever created."

"Lady Rebecca then, well I must admit I never would have guessed Mr Forest."

"No much more exquisite than that." Will answered softly locking her gaze watching as she flushed guiltily biting her bottom lip. "I was luckiest man alive for just one day, I thought I had touched heaven when I thought she might love me back but…" He stopped suddenly, his words lost as a pair of rosy soft lips grazed gently against his cheek in a bare ghost of a kiss.

"So what gave me away Mrs Ryan?" Will whispered when she pulled away almost as soon as it began reaching up to stroke her cheek tenderly

"It's Mrs Corey, Will remember."

"Unfortunately I do." He replied sadly running a lone finger across her lips before impetuously leaning forward and capturing them hungrily then pulling away just as raggedly as the housekeeper gently pushed him back. "I only wish I could forget." He added his eyes blurring slightly when suddenly a small voice piped up.

"Ma ma."

"Well say what you will my boy has excellent taste." Will muttered softly ruffling his sleepy son's hair.

"I can't be his mother Will, I am already going to be a mother soon" Flora replied sadly provoking a deep sigh from the footman.

"Damn another brilliant plan foiled again!" He exclaimed loudly before falling back on the carpet laughing at the sheer randomness of the situation, quickly followed by a giggling Phillip who took the opportunity to clamber onto his father.

"See he's walking all over you already!" Flora snorted leaning forward and encouraging the little boy to join her in tickling unable to resist tugging at his shirt to reach that ticklish spot just under his ribs that she knew would have him in stitches.

"Stop it you pair of wretches!" Will gasped unable to breath in between ragged breaths. "And you Flora a happily married woman!" Will added loudly trying desperately to push them both away without harming either his son or his pregnant superior and so missing the telltale creak of the office door as it was pushed open and the slight gasp from their voyeur as they spied on them through the small gap.

"Shouldn't you….be going upstairs… to meet your husband?" Will gasped out. "Or was that just a ploy to get rid of him so we could be alone?"

"You know very well why William Forest!" Flora snapped pushing herself up slightly and gazing down at the beaming footman who winked cheekily up at her.

"I had forgotten how naughty you can be Mrs Corey and to think of your poor pining husband upstairs waiting for his tea" He added mischievously reaching up and tugging on her loose wisps of hair round her face.

"You shouldn't talk to happily married woman like that Mr Forest!" Flora reprimanded slapping his hand away.

"Yes bloody Walter Corey!" Will hissed earning him a scathing look from the housekeeper.

"No cussing in front of your son William or don't you want to set the proper example?"

"Why it's bloody well your fault, you married him!"

"Yes thank you I don't need reminding!" Flora hissed. "And if you cuss one more time I'll wash your mouth out with soap."

"Why that sounds like fun….But personally I think it says something about your marriage that you'd rather romp down here with me than cosy up with that husband of yours!" Will added deliberately provoking a reaction.

"There is nothing wrong with my marriage! Thank you very Mr Forest" Flora sniffed.

"Oh so its just bedroom difficulties then?" Will retorted evilly watching as the housekeeper become increasingly uncomfortable and pulled away slightly.

"That is not your concern either, everything is…."

"Just rosy?" Will snorted. "That's not what you said the other day, in fact you were saying how you suspected your good old Walter's was getting a little too active especially with a certain deputy of yours! Although personally I think you're just delusional I mean how could he even consider another when he gets to share his bed with you even if you're not well…."

"Oh that's not for the want of trying…well on his part." Flora muttered cagily leaning back against the leg of the table and pulling an eager Phil on to her lap for a cuddle and trying to ignore the concerned look on his father's face

"Flora he's not been pressuring you or ought has he?" Will asked tentatively. "I mean you should be taking it easy or as Mrs Corey senior would put it." Will paused before continuing in a high pitched nasal voice. "What are you doing up Flora dear you should be in bed resting…When I was a girl it wasn't considered decent for a pregnant woman to do all this rushing about…Oh the young today!" He finished watching as the now giggling housekeeper creased up at his rather accurate imitation on her mother-in-law. "If you want I can do a passable Dr Evans or perhaps Mr Kraus?" He asked unable to resist sniggering along with her.

"Don't you dare…I'd risk wetting myself?" Flora snorted in between fits of laughter allowing the toddler to pull off of her lap and crawl under the table.

"How shocking, Flora not in front of the little one you saucy minx!" Will retorted pretending to be disgusted.

"That was not what I meant and you know it you nasty little man!" Flora gasped reaching down and slapping his shoulder playfully screeching out slightly when the playful footman pulled her over on to the rug besides him holding her wrists as he began to tickle her back, it was in this compromising position that Phil suddenly called out to their unseen visitor revealing her presence to the now panicking pair.

"LIZZIE!" Will gasped getting to his feet and hurriedly tucking his shirt back into his trousers. "It's not like you think we we're just talking." He added watching as she maid glanced back and forward between him and the flushed housekeeper.

"Well why should that matter to me Mr Forest?" Liz retorted icily watching as the toddler immediately recoiled at her cold tone crawling back to the warmth and protection of the housekeeper's lap. "I just wanted to check to see what you decided before I went to tend Lady Rebecca but I see you have everything in hand!" She added vindictively glaring at the housekeeper before turning on her heel and striding down the corridor.

Suddenly torn between following the fuming maid and staying in the relative warmth and safety of the office with his son Will ran his fingers through his hair before reaching down and helping the struggling housekeeper to her feet. "Can you look after him for me during the day?" He asked softly. "There is no one else I can trust…" He added pleadingly.

"Of course, go after her try and explain." Flora replied smiling and laying a reassuring hand on his arm.

Nodding Will favored her with a grateful smile planting a tender kiss on her forehead before heading towards the door and disappearing out down the corridor leaving the housekeeper to stare dumbfounded at the little boy who had now curled up and contentedly fallen fast asleep on the fireside rug.

- - - - -

Lord Montague hadn't slept a wink that night. He had gone to bed for an hour's rest in the small hours once the police had told him they would speak to him the following morning, but even still he couldn't stop his mind from spinning for long enough to lull himself into unconsciousness. He kept on asking himself the same questions – what if they suspected it was him and he had no alibi? What if the only evidence the police could go off was his awful argument with Cecil? What if he hung! It was too terrible to imagine, but nonetheless every time he had shut his eyes he had visions of himself swinging from a noose, his wife looking on in grim satisfaction as his neck finally snapped and his body hung lifeless.

Monty needed comfort, reassurance, so he took his opportunity after a hurried breakfast to hunt out the under-housekeeper. It was a long-shot, she was rushed off her feet most of the time, and now with police crawling over the house she had to offer the Inspector a warm bed for the night and breakfast the next morning. And, she suspected, a hearty lunch for him and his men to keep up their energies for the day ahead. Inspector Briggs was only too glad to accept Taplows hospitality, and the Earl begrudgingly let him sit at the dining table – after the Earl had gone for a morning stroll, of course. It wouldn't have done to have him sitting with the local Peelers, but annoyingly for Molly this meant two breakfast sittings instead of one.

But if Molly had given the impression she was concentrating on her job, she had managed to kid everyone except herself. She understood perfectly the implications for Monty, he had come to her only hours before the alleged time of Lord Farquarson's death, cursing his father-in-law.

"If he thinks he's going to ruin my chance of a Parliamentary career then he has another thing coming!" Monty had told her in no uncertain terms as she massaged his tense shoulders. She had tried to calm him, tell him she was sure Cecil was all bark and no bite, but Monty simply refused to stop spitting blood about the man, one moment defiantly declaring he wouldn't let him bring him down, while the next holding his head in his hands and muttering what a Godawful mess it all was. He didn't seem to realise just how guilty this made Molly feel, every man she had ever been with had ended up miserable and she concluded this couldn't be just a simple coincidence.

"What are we going to do?" Monty had asked her, his brown eyes wide and pleading, as if she had some magical solution. He was right, it wasn't just his problem, it was something both of them had to think through. The inevitable solution – ending the affair – was the only one which was out of the question, and this made the dilemma all the more difficult.

Molly had sighed, clasping Monty's hand and cradling it in her own as Monty breathed in the scent of her hair. "Oh my dear Montgomery." She breathed, gulping back the tears. "Please tell me I will always be yours?"

Monty didn't reply, but as his lips worked their way down her neck she didn't need a verbal answer. If their relationship was to end, and Lord Farquarson knew about it anyway, then what was one more night? They needed each other, and physical comfort would certainly take their mind off matters, if only for a short while. Molly's bed was familiar and inviting as his desire for her drowned out his feeling of utter hopelessness. Molly wished to please him that night, make him feel that she had, after all, been worth every stolen kiss and every intimate caress, so she took care to dress in the expensive underwear and stockings he had lavished her with on his return to Taplows.

"Keep your eyes closed." She had cooed, and he had done as he was told, except for a small peek which had helped to hold his interest. It never ceased to amaze him what a hold she had over him, but as the mental hold turned into a physical one, her hand teasingly toying with the buttons of his trousers, he felt he should show her just who was dominant in the bedroom. He knew she always loved it when he took control, pinning her down, the master having his wicked way with the under-housekeeper, but as she panted under him, deep down in the pit of his stomach he knew, by the hand of fate, things between them might never be the same again.

They had been at a particularly pleasurable point of their liaison when all chaos had broken loose, all the bedroom bells sounding at once – all except for one. She had been summoned with a frantic knock from Hettie, who yelled through the door that there was a fire and everyone needed to get out, and fast. Hurriedly, Monty put his newly planned escape route into action as Molly ushered him out of her window, promising she would get herself out of danger as soon as she could account for all her staff, and that had been the last she had seen of him until after learning the terrible news.

Now, after frantically searching her out, he discovered her on her own in the laundry. He had made sure he knew every aspect of the building, and she had shown him where all the short-cuts and secret passages were, but even still Molly was surprised – but secretly delighted – to see her beloved standing before her. The happiness soon dissipated when she saw how awful he looked, his handsome face was drawn and ashen, his eyes doleful and dark, like two hollows. If last night he had been worried about what Lord Farquarson might do in life, then Lord Farquarson in death seemed to hold far greater fears. Molly blinked, abandoning her sheet and tentatively taking a step towards him, fearful that Hettie or Lizzie might appear behind him and ask questions.

"They think it's me." Monty whispered, his voice cracking. Molly felt like she had been thumped hard in the stomach and a wave of nausea engulfed her.

"W…who thinks it's you?" She breathed, shutting the door and praying nobody turned up unexpectedly.

Monty hung his head, shutting his eyes. "Everyone – including the police. I just know it, it's just a matter of time before I'm questioned, and I don't know what to say!"

Molly drew him into a hug, his shaking body clutching hers like a limpet to a rock, and for a moment she thought he would never let go. She had never seen him so vulnerable and confused – her strong, athletic aristocrat who was so caring and understanding had been reduced to a quivering wreck at the thought of having the finger pointed at him for this. Neither had heard that William Forest was currently the prime suspect, but even this knowledge would have been cold comfort for Monty.

"There must be a way." Molly soothed, releasing him slightly so she could brush her lips against his to remind him she was on his side.

"I can't see one." Monty shook his head. He felt his dream of Parliament, of getting into the Cabinet, crumbling around him, and at this rate he was to lose more than his dream, his children and his mistress – he was terrified of losing his life. He reluctantly drew away from her, holding her arms and staring hopelessly into her eyes. "But whatever happens, my dear Molly, I will have to go away. If it is in a police carriage or if it is in my own, escorting my father-in-law's body back to Scotland, I will be leaving you for some time."

It was too much. Molly had needed only one, small push for the tears to eventually fall and that had been it. Breaking down, she sobbed into her hands, praying for a miracle to stop Monty from going away and possibly never returning to her again. Even in death, Lord Farquarson was hell-bent on tearing them apart. She KNEW there had to be a way to rescue Monty, she just had to think of it. And then it struck her. There was one, other man under the Taplows roof who would do anything for her, who still looked at her with a burning longing when he thought she couldn't notice. Maybe it was mean of her, to play on his feelings, emotionally blackmail him, but desperate times lead to desperate measures and if it meant hurting Joe to save Monty then she had to do it. She would repent afterwards, but she would go to any lengths to save the man she loved.

She couldn't tell Monty about what she planned to do, Rebecca had already hinted to her that she might have offered Andrew as an alibi and he had refused, but if she was going to do it then she would need to act fast. She could bear losing Monty for a few months if he returned with Farquarson's body, and she assumed Lady Rebecca would travel too, but she was damned if they were going to be parted forever for something Monty simply didn't do.

- - - - -

Jarvis gritted his teeth angrily as he sat down for lunch that afternoon, noticing his wife already seated in her usual place next to him. She smiled nervously at him, but he was only able to glare at her in return. She quickly noticed Emily sit as far away as possible from her son, next to Felix at the other end of the table, purposely avoiding both his and Flora's eyes. Flora couldn't help giggling to herself as she began to eat…she'd yet to hear the whole story or what happened between Emily and her son that afternoon when Emily took him his tea instead of Flora like promised, but she had a pretty good idea already.

"Busy day, my dear?" She asked apprehensively as they began to eat. He preferred not to answer her, deciding he might bring the roof down if he opened his mouth to reply, instead he settled for moaning to the table about the absence of his paper that morning. "I said-" she began again, only to be cut off when Walter snapped in a whisper.

"You are in big trouble young lady."

"I'm sorry," she muttered, "I know I said I'd bring you the tea up but I got a little sidetracked…" she trailed off as she thought at the little toddler who was momentarily snoozing in her office, with Charles watching over him…hopefully. She'd hated dragging him into this whole affair, but until Will or Lizzie appeared he was the best person for the job in Flora's opinion.

"A little sidetracked?" he hissed. "Flora! Did you have to send my mother? In fact did you have to send anyone at all?"

"Why what happened?" She asked, a little unsure whether she wanted to hear this or not.

"Well…lets just say I was expecting more than tea from you this afternoon…" he trailed off, cringing as he recalled the words he'd called out to his mother, thinking it was Flora. "And I was wearing less than…appropriate."

"Oh…" Flora replied, giggling uncontrollably, as she reached across the table for the lemon curd.

"Well I'm glad you find all this amusing!" He tutted, wincing as he saw her smear lemon curd onto her ham sandwich. "That really is disgusting," he added, screwing up his face.

"What's wrong with lemon curd all of a sudden?"

"Nothing, it's the fact your eating it with ham, bread and pickle," he replied, glancing across the table to Felix, who seemed to be turning green.

"Don't blame me, I can't even stand the stuff. Your child however seems to have taken a liking to it." She huffs, biting into her sandwich.

"What's there not to like?" Frank smirks, "Lemon curd, good…ham, good…pickle, good." Jarvis scowls at him for so much as muttering a word, though more preoccupied with watching Flora drain the contains of her glass with one swig.

He shakes his head unable to believe it as she refilled her glass and drained that as well. He was just about to mutter some smart-arsed comment like 'are you thirsty?'. When he noticed Fredrick Matkin enter the room, his nose buried in none other than Jarvis' newspaper. He cleared his throat, causing Fred to snap the paper shut and hand it to him, stepping back stunned, unable to believe what he had just read.

"Something interesting?" Jarvis muttered, scanning the front page his eyes widening in shock as he turned to page 8 as instructed. "Oh my good God…"

- - - - -

Grace wrung the handkerchief in her hands as she tried to take in all that Fred was saying to the crowd of servants huddled in the hall. It was just unbelievable…George! A part of her wanted to scream out at the top of her lungs her happiness. He was no longer been held prisoner in London for a crime he should never have been convicted for. At the same time she was livid at the idea of him being so reckless…if it was serious before now it was much worse.

On top of that the last thing she needed was George sneaking back into the Taplows grounds to declare his love for her, when she had finally got him out of her head. She loved Frank now and realised how stupid she had been to have ever doubted he was the right man for her.

"Do you think he'll head this way?" Hettie smirked intrigued, excited at the prospect of meeting someone who'd been in the newspaper…even if it wasn't for the best reason.

"Well the paper seemed to be suggesting that. But if you ask me George isn't stupid enough to head this way. He knows people will be looking out for him so why goes somewhere so obvious," Fred replies, enjoying being so knowledgeable on this subject.

"What would even be the point of him making a run for it, if it wasn't to get back to see someone…or protect them," Joe adds, raising his eyebrow at Fred, before nodding in Grace's direction. "Or perhaps he's more keen on the idea of getting back at someone," he continued as Frank entered, catching Grace's eye for a moment before turning to leave again.

"I think that was your cue to follow him," Hettie hissed at Grace, jealously as her eyes followed Frank out. Understanding Frank's signs without Hettie's help, Grace rose and made her way out of the room and followed Frank up the stairs to his room.

"I don't have long," Grace whispered as Frank opened the door for her. "Mrs Corey is in a huge mood over something, she's been running around frantic all-" She was cut off when a pair of insistent lips covered hers. "Frank!" She gasped the moment he released her.

"What?" He asked coyly. "Oh Grace, you can't go all coy on me now, not after the other night." He smirked, trailing a hand across her cheek. "I was hoping you'd come to me again last night."

"W- well we were all very busy with the fire and one thing and another," she replied, the tears welling in her eyes as the thought of George overwhelmed her.

"I suppose," he growled angrily, then his expression softening he added, "but there is nothing stopping us now is there?" 

"Frank," she warned, her arms out in front of her as she backed away from him. "It's the middle of the day and for all I know Mrs Corey is running around everywhere looking for me."

"Let her, the exercise will help work off some of the pounds I notice she's gained while we were away," he chuckled at his own joke, advancing towards Grace. "It would be such a shame to waste such a perfect opportunity as this," he murmured into her neck, as he pulled her closer.

Grace's head was spinning as she tried to focus on the floor. Things had happened so quickly…it had seemed right the other night. She had wanted Frank, she'd needed him. But now at the idea of George getting hopefully closer to her every day the idea of being with Frank made her feel sick in the stomach.

Determined, she pushed him away firmly by the shoulders to face the anger in his expression. "What the hell has got into you?" He hissed, knowing very well why she was suddenly more distant than ever and not liking it.

"You know why! They…they say he's coming back Frank…and I'm not sure if I can face him."

"He wouldn't dare put in an appearance here, sweetie," Frank smiled as comfortingly as he could, grasping her hands tightly. "And I won't let him anywhere near you, you've no need to be worried." 

"I'm not worried," she replied, pulling her hands away. She sighed deeply…she didn't know how she felt. She was trying her best to convince herself that she loved Frank now with all her heart, however there was that feeling in her stomach which she always felt whenever thinking about George. The feeling which never went away and somehow she knew it never would.

"You're not worried? Well if you weren't worried you'd be able to face him."

"I'm not scared of him. I just-" she stops herself, suddenly realising this wasn't the right discussion to be having with her new lover. 

"You just don't want to see him…because you know you'd not want him to go away again."

She swallowed a large lump in her throat and looking up into his infuriated eyes a single tear ran down her cheek. "Well?" He shouted, causing her to jump slightly. "Am I right?"

"W-well I-" she began, before Frank cut her off.

"A simple yes or no will do fine! Do you still have feelings for George Cosmo?" He prompted as he received no answer from her.

"I love you!" She insisted.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you feel nothing for Mr Cosmo," he hissed, grasping her chin and forcing her to look him in the eye. "Well?"

Grace opened her mouth. She tried to say the word that would make everything so much easier, but the words just wouldn't come out. "You can't do it can you?" She shakes her head meekly, immediately regretting her actions as a sharp hand darted across her cheek, forcefully throwing her against the wall. Grasping her roughly he ignored her plea as he threw her down onto his bed, determined to show her just who was in charge.

- - - - - -

Meanwhile far from the servants quarters a certain Mrs Corey was less preoccupied with where Miss May had disappeared off to and more worried about hiding a certain precocious toddler. The situation had become almost impossible, Walter was now only a few seconds walk down the staff corridor and so her office was no longer a safe haven, the laundry was full and bustling and as for the lad's father well he was busy dancing attendance on their rapidly departing guests. The only place that was far enough away from prying eyes and where certain butlers or under butlers couldn't simply go storming into whenever they liked were their lord and ladyships bedrooms.

So it was that Flora Corey found herself skulking in the shadows using the backstairs to reach the east wing where she knew Rebecca had secluded herself away. Flora didn't know what possible comfort she could bring her grieving friend at such time, but she thought that perhaps the diversion of little Phillip might at least bring a smile to Rebecca's beautiful face for a moment or two. So balancing the child on one hip and a small basket of Felix's legendary ginger snaps under her other arm she knocked softly on the solid oak door, hoping against hope that the corridor would remain clear for a few minutes more.

"Come in." A tired and wan sounding voice called out and impatient Flora pushed the door open and stepped into the room, nudging the door to with her foot. Squinting through the darkened room, as only one of the drapes had been drawn that morning she headed over to the chaise.

"Flora." Rebecca cried out delighted at seeing her friend, her eyes widening as she caught sight of her other visitor balanced precariously on her friends hip and contently sucking his own hand whilst twirling a lock of the housekeeper's hair through his fingers.

"This is Phillip." Flora replied before Rebecca could even ask the question that was burning in her eyes. "He's going to be joining us for tea today."

"Delighted to make your acquaintance young Master Philip." Rebecca began formally before breaking out into a timid smile as the child fixed her with a toothy grin, before hiding his face against Flora's shoulder.

"Oh no don't you go all shy on me." Flora clucked maternally settling herself down own the chaise beside her friend and trying to unlock the boys arms from around her neck albeit unsuccessfully. "I don't understand him he's been outgoing with everyone else, you must have struck him dumb with you beauty Rebecca." Flora teased, playfully avoiding the faked swipe her friend made in her direction and finally settling the boy on the soft rug, rolling him his little red ball and watching delight as he immediately pounced.

"So Flora is this a test run or have you been keeping a secret from all of us?" Rebecca asked once the child was settled, watching as her friend fussed over him and the boy lapped up her attention and affection.

"No nothing to do with me, he's….he's a son of a friend I am watching him for the afternoon." Flora replied hesitantly avoiding Rebecca's eye.

"Really and you just thought what with all this on your plate that you needed to heap more on…."

"It's not like that!" Flora snapped before realising she was taken out her frustration on the wrong person. "I'm the only one who can…His mother just left him, how can any woman do that? Just abandon her child…There are women out there who are never lucky enough to even have a child and she just left him with a stranger not caring what could happen to him, she hasn't even been asking after him in the village and poor Will…"

"William Forest? William Forest is this boy's father?" Rebecca asked horrified. "What on earth does Walter have to say about you mothering William Forest's son?"

"He….He doesn't know." Flora replied softly glancing down at her clasped hands. "It just hasn't been the right moment to tell him, he has enough on his plate what with…Well you know the fire and the guests, the Earl has taken to his bed you know and then there are the funeral arrangements."

"I am well aware of the funeral arrangements!" Rebecca snapped, frowning at Flora's obvious attempt to change the subject. "Monty and I finalised them this morning, I don't know if Walter told you yet but we'll be leaving tomorrow to make the trip back to our estate, Father always insisted about being buried in his own soil. But please Flora I have enough to worry about, leaving Andrew, Hugo travelling, having to face Francesca, the last thing I can handle is worrying about you here as well….You have to find someone else to look after the boy, and soon before Walter finds out."

"I can't he needs me." Flora retorted stubbornly turning from her friend to gaze back at Phillip. "And I…." She began her eyes suddenly widening as she scanned the rug, then the rest of the dimly lit room. "Phillip?" She called out getting to her feet as quickly as her bulk would allow. "Phillip!" She added this time a note of panic creeping into his voice.

"Philip…" Rebecca added getting to her feet and helping her friend to search her rooms not noticing the door to the corridor which lay tellingly ajar.

- - - -

Meanwhile oblivious to the commotion that was going on in his house, the up roar the police were causing and the mad frantic gossiping of his many guests, the Earl had seen fit to retire to his bed to escape the cacophony. As always when his lordship shrugged his responsibilities they ended up weighing down his butler's shoulders. So it was that Jarvis found himself carrying a tray of Dr Evans patented flu cure up to his lord and master when he would much rather be tracking down his illusive wife.

Sighing deeply he came to a halt outside his lordship's bedroom door, a slight frown gracing his normally placid features as the door swung open when he knocked but gently. Cursing his incompetent footmen under his breath, for once more failing to close even a simple door properly, the butler stepped inside at his lordship's feeble 'come in' this time shutting the door with a determined snap before turning to peer through the gloom.

"Ah Jarvis about bloody time someone answered my bell…I've been waiting for ages and there's been a god awful draft in here, has someone left a window open or something?" The Earl snorted, before dragging out a huge handkerchief and blowing on it for effect. "I'll catch my death and nobody even gives a damn." He added morosely, pouting into the darkness at the shadowed figure of his butler.

"My apologies my lord but Lady Caroline insisted I send one of the lads into Tappleton for some medicine from the good doctor, and it took longer than expected." Jarvis replied politely, fighting the impulse to roll his eyes at his employer's plight, all he had was a bloody cold yet the way he was going on anyone would be convinced he was convalescing with pneumonia.

"Oh she did did she?" The Earl mumbled taking one sniff at the warmed medicine before waving it aside to his bedside cabinet. "What I need is a hot toddy, my father always swore by them!"

"I'll see to it immediately My Lord." Jarvis replied automatically his attention already beginning to wander from the conversation as he scanned the room idlely. "Will there be anything else?" He added, wishing the old goat would hurry up and dismiss him so he could continue with the far more vital search of finding his missus and giving her a stern telling off about getting a chaps hopes up and then letting him down most cruelly.

"Oh actually could you bring me my papers from my desk. There are some things that need to be dealt with without delay." The Earl wheezed waving his hands in the vague direction of his ornate writing desk that lay in the adjoining room.

Bowing slightly the butler turned on his heel and strode into the other room right over to the desk randomly scanning the desktop for the pile of letters that needed signing, picking them up he went to return when a sudden noise stopped him. Freezing on the spot he listened, there was someone breathing, someone other than himself and the Earl. Dropping the papers on to the desk he began to track down the noise, slowly creeping towards the thick curtains that dimmed the room to shadows and were the only place that anyone could possibly be hiding. Then with a sudden jerk he pulled them open expecting to see a burglar or lost police officer cowering behind them, but instead there was only air. Squinting against the sudden light he shook his head to try and clear his thoughts, he could have sworn he had heard something, but the Earl's loud cry of protest at being abandoned jerked him from his daydream. Grabbing the papers he rounded the desk and began towards the bedroom when a sudden crash stopped him his tracks. Whirling round his jaw dropped in shock the papers falling from his hand scattering over the floor, as Walter Corey unknowingly came face to face with Phillip Forest.

- - - - -

Meanwhile Lady Rebecca had returned to her room on Flora's insistence, telling her she was right, she had enough to worry about in her life right now and that she would enlist all available maids to help hunt for Philip. Besides, he couldn't have gone far, Flora was certain, although if the boy was anything like his father it was plausible he was in some sort of mischief. Flora could only hope it wasn't the sort she was dreading.

Baby Hugo was gurgling in his cot when Adams finally found an opportunity to pay his family a visit. He had been rushing around like a blue-arsed fly since Lord Farquarson died he had hardly found much time to speak to his beloved, or gaze wondrously at his son, so found his opportunity once Jarvis had stormed away, face like thunder, to tend the 'ailing' Earl. He doubted Rebecca had eaten much that day, so much had been going on he hadn't even noticed how terrible she must be feeling, so taking the initiative asked Felix to cook her something special. The under-butler arrived with tray in hands; even though he had done this what felt like hundreds of times before, he never allowed himself to become complacent. There was always the chance, especially today with so many prying, suspicious eyes and inaudible whispers along corridors they would be caught – and he might become the prime suspect.

He tapped lightly and received a gentle 'enter!' in response. He had expected Rebecca to be lying on the bed with Hugo cradled in her arms, an idyllic image etched in his mind of mother and son, his small but adored family. Instead, he was shocked to find his darling Rebecca rifling through her wardrobe, busying herself with setting clothes out on the bed as Hugo's tiny frame slept peacefully in his cradle. A smile flashed across Rebecca's pretty but tired face on seeing Andrew, the secret she had managed to keep for nearly two years. Adams couldn't make out how happy she really was to see him, she was obviously distracted, understandably, but he hadn't expected to see her doing a job Elizabeth was paid to do. Especially so soon.

"We're travelling in the morning. Monty's been cleared of suspicion, a last minute alibi from Joseph James. Seems he saw Monty drinking brandy in the library at the time of my father's death." She announced flatly, avoiding eye contact with her lover. Adams knew her well enough to know she was becoming more distraught with every passing moment. Carefully he placed the tray on the sideboard and tentatively moved towards her, taking hold of her hands gently and teasing that red basque out of her clutches. The tears sparkled in her eyes as Adams leant forward and kissed her full on the mouth. For a moment Rebecca felt elated, when Andrew kissed her she was home, he and Hugo were everything she ever wanted, but like all good things their embrace came to an end and they were left staring down at the basque, a symbol of the early memories they shared.

"It's been a long time, since you first wore this for me." Adams smiled, his gaze trailing from the silk ribbon to Rebecca. "D'you think we'll ever be like that again? Or is it too late now?"

Rebecca shrugged, the expression on her pretty face wistful and full of longing. "My feelings haven't changed for you, Andrew, you must always know that. It's just….well so much has happened, I feel like I've grown up an awful lot in the months I've been coming here. I love this place, it is full of so many happy memories, it is your life, it is where Hugo was born, and I want to be a part of it more than anything, but I now have sad memories here. Archie, now Father, maybe my time here is done."

Adams stared at her pleadingly as Hugo sneezed in his cradle. "No, no you mustn't say that – you must come back. You have to! I can't live here without you, I simply can't!"

"Then come with us." Rebecca gripped Adams' hands tightly, looking deep into his eyes, searching for an answer she hoped above all hopes he would give. Her breathing was ragged, it was if the idea had just struck her right at that moment. Adams guessed it probably had. "I don't have Father telling me what to do now, he can't stop us, and Monty will make sure I received the money I am entitled to. Please, Andrew, come with us!"

"But, but…." Adams was dumbfounded. He shook his head, but no further words would pass his lips until finally he made up his mind. It was the most difficult decision of his life, even more so than when he left Rebecca up in Scotland to escape the law. "I can't, Rebecca. Or at least give me a few months to think further about it. I would much rather….I would love you to come and stay here, maybe travel up to the estate in summer. Hugo could be educated here at Taplows, where the summers are glorious and he wouldn't be a million miles away from civilisation."

Rebecca laughed and Adams' heart sank. She moved over to the cradle, leaning in and running her fingers across her son's soft, warm cheek. "If I lived here people would talk. Not about you, but about Algie. You know as well as I do that I couldn't actually live under the same roof as the man, certain things would be expected. Remember he and my father were only the most distant of cousins, society would twist it, we would be living in sin….."

"Bugger society!" Adams exploded. "I don't care for society, and I didn't think you did either!"

"The Earl wouldn't allow it!" Rebecca snapped back. Her stomach hurt as did her abdomen, still traumatised from the efforts of childbirth. She thought she would feel less pain by now, but it was still there, a reminder of the son she had born but lost. "I am not about to marry a man I don't love so I can be here with you, I can't share a bed with him then with you, I am not like that and I am shocked you would suggest I should!"

Adams scowled, lowering his voice to a strained whisper. "I'm not suggesting that whatsoever! The idea of you and that fat bastard together is abhorrent, I simply meant you could talk him round to letting you stay here longer, tell him that Hugo would have a better quality of life, I don't know you're good at persuasion!"

Rebecca couldn't think of anything quickly enough for a retort. She slumped onto the bed amongst her belongings and shut her eyes, and immediately Adams regretted his heavy-handedness. He doubted he would ever learn. Checking the clock, he realised he didn't have much time. Carefully he sat next to his lover on the bed and drew her into a tight hug, but she winced as he pressed himself up against her.

"What's wrong?" He asked, immediately concerned.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just still a bit sore." Rebecca smiled weakly, but Adams' worried expression intensified and he gently ran his hand across her abdomen.

"You should see Dr Evans before you go." He suggested, but a suppressed feeling began to stir as he felt the warmth of her body through the material. How he wanted to take her, undress her slowly like he had done so many times before, make love to her slowly and affectionately, soothe her emotional scars with the way he knew best. It secretly devastated him that she was going to leave without fulfilling his most primeval of urges but he could hardly say that to her. Instead all he could do was offer sympathy and love with a cuddle and a kiss. At least they could share that.

Rebecca cupped his chin and placed her hand firmly yet protectively over his. "I don't have time to see Dr Evans. I can see a doctor on the estate if I'm still not feeling right by the time I arrive. You are so sweet, the way you worry so."

"I will make sure Elizabeth has strict instructions." Adams said in his most authoritarian of voices.

"You will go and see the doctor just to make sure…..Rebecca, what are you doing!"

Her hand had wandered from his chin down towards his crotch and she gently squeezed him, the familiar but long unseen naughty twinkle in her eye which had captured Adams' heart all that time ago in the summer fields of Scotland.

"But you can't, I understand all of that, I don't want to hurt you…..!"

"And you have been very patient, and I know you will have to be patient for an awful lot longer yet." Rebecca cooed, her eyes searching his. Nevertheless, she could feel him responding to her touch and she smiled, if a little sadly. "But I could never leave without a little farewell present. Just because I can't let you near certain parts of me, that doesn't mean you need to miss out all together."

Suddenly, he realised just what she meant. The naughty minx in Rebecca was resurfacing and he wasn't about to argue with her, so he allowed her without further comment to carry out her most generous offer with the incredible skill he remembered. He ran his fingers through her red locks, staring down at her in amazement as the pleasure began to build in his groin. It didn't take him long, she made sure of that, but for him it was the most incredible release he could imagine. Afterwards she sat back on the bed and he fetched her a cup of tea from the tray to wash the taste away.

"Please come back, Rebecca." Adams said after a moment. Hugo was beginning to stir, it was nearing his feed and he probably needed changing. "After your father's funeral. I presume Lord Montague will be returning, not least because of he is fighting the Northavon seat. And other reasons, I suspect."

Lady Rebecca sashayed over the cradle and lifted out her only son, and Adams' heart melted. "Here, hold him." Adams tentatively took the gurgling baby from her arms and smiled, nuzzling his nose with his own. This was a side to him nobody from downstairs was allowed to see, except maybe Mrs Corey. The William Forests of the world must know him as a bruiser and a force to be reckoned with, not a doting father. If Forest ever knew that his son was his big weakness, he was likely to use it against him. No, he could never know how much he loved his new family. Forest was already aware how he felt for his daughter, this time he wasn't about to let Hugo be a weapon in their personal war.

"I would very much like to come back." Rebecca said after a moment of observing father and son together. Andrew's eyes would light up at the mere mention of Hugo, but when he held him Rebecca knew she could never take him away from him, never to return. She was sure her 'bit of servant rough', as she had once referred to him as, was a capable and loving father whom she had changed from being a drunken gambler who could barely contain his rage to someone who had simply needed the right woman to bring out his caring side.

Adams glanced up at her expectantly as she watched, placing a finger inside Hugo's tiny fist. "So you will? Come back?"

Rebecca sat next to him and kissed Hugo on the crown of his head, his wisps of fiery hair soft and fine. "Definitely. With Monty's help I will settle my father's affairs, my husband's affairs and in a couple of months I will be back. I promise you. Sooner, if I can manage it."

Well, that was as much as Adams could hope for, and he smiled. Hugo would be a lot bigger by then, and he wanted him to get to know his father as early on as possible. One day, he was sure, they would be a proper family. Until then Monty would look after her in Scotland, he trusted him enough to know he wouldn't try anything ungentlemanly, especially in light of the revelations about Molly. But Adams couldn't help the undeniable sadness which tore at his heart. Lord Farquarson may have been dead, but his death served only to take Rebecca away from him, however temporarily. But he had a job to do here, he was loyal to Jarvis and his master. He didn't know how, but he knew he would see Rebecca again sooner than he had anticipated.

"Can I watch you feed him?" Adams asked hopefully.

Rebecca could think of nothing lovelier. "Will you lie with me tonight? You, me and Hugo, together for one night?"

She hardly needed to ask. He would have insisted anyway. Before Hugo settled hungrily onto her breast she kissed Andrew as if it was their first – and their last. Then, without another word, he rested his chin on her shoulder and watched, a proper family at last.

- - - - -

"JARVIS WHAT THE HELL IS TAKING SO BLOODY LONG!" The Earls voice cut through the gloomy silence shaking the butler out of his already shattered wits.

Stepping backwards in shock unable to process a thought let alone manage a coherent reply, his mouth hanging open in shock as he stared at the toddler who was now crawling over to him his chubby fists closing round the piles of paper which he pushed around in his new game.

"JARVIS!"

The Earl's repeated screeching finally worked and after a few seconds struggle with the papers he finally pulled them from the toddlers grasp, panic immediately setting in as the youngsters face crumpled as a sure sign of an impending tantrum. Thinking quickly the butler pulled out his shiny pocket watch dangling it in front of the young lads face, wincing slightly as the grubby fingers closed round it eagerly and it headed in the general direction of the lad's mouth. Realising he had to act quickly or risk permanent rust damage to his beloved pocket watch he disappeared into the bedroom, thrusting the papers and pen into the Earls stunned hands whilst muttering something about getting that hot toddy before turning and without further ceremony dashing out back into the study.

Then taking his life in his hands he grasped the boy firmly round the waist hoisting him up like a rolled up carpet under his arm before disappearing like a phantom through the door before the Earl could so much as call after him.

- - - - - - -

It was a most bizarre sight that greeted assorted staff as they went around they normal daily business, their esteemed butler storming through the house, his expression as stormy and furious as they had ever seen it. But what was more disturbing was not the blood curdling expression on his face but the screaming toddler that was carried like a package under his arm as he barrelled down the corridor. As a result by the time he had reached the servants hall he had quite the following, striding into the room he watched as the lazing footmen scattered from the table glancing at each other an expression of panic on their faces that Jarvis immediately recognised, as one of guilt.

Walking over to the table he plonked the bawling child down on the surface before turning to face the shame faced staff, watching as they all slunk back against the wall he began to pace up and down the makeshift line that had formed. Walking up to each and every lower servant he stared them intently in the face, glancing back and forth between them and the snivelling child trying to discern some basic resemblance, quickly dismissing both Joe and Fred then Charlie just as quickly, unable to resist making Johnny squirm as he took a good minute scrutinising the young lads face.

"Well is anyone going to admit to bringing this….child…into our respectable household?" The Butler suddenly snapped unable to make out any particular resemblance in the assembled staff, glancing over his shoulder as more curious staff poked their heads into the hall and then tried to make a quick exit before the butler's wrath could be turned on them.

"Its nothing to do with us Mr Jarvis!" Fred quickly retorted. "I mean you can see that clear as day."

"I didn't ask that Mr Matkin, I asked who is responsible for this child?" Jarvis barked waving his hands around to emphasis his point. "He didn't simply arrive under the Earl's desk out of thin air, or perhaps you want me to believe the pixies left him?"

"Mr Jarvis." A soft and timid Charles tried to interrupt but the butler cut him off with only a wave.

"I know he is nothing to do with you Mr Lewis." Jarvis began, noticing out of the corner of his eye the staff round the door part like the red sea to allow the housekeeper through, her face seeming unusually pale even in the summer sunlight. "What I want to know is just who this little…"

"Maaaaa" The child suddenly crowed wiping at his tears before reaching out towards the doorway.

Whirling round in shock Jarvis stood frozen to the spot watching in horror as his wife avoided his eye and crossed the room towards the child who was reaching out for her so desperately.

"Flora…………." The whisper escaped his lips but the room was so silent almost everyone could work out what he said, as he watched in horror as his wife picked up the child balancing him expertly on her hip, brushing his tears away with her thumb.

"Mrs Corey." Jarvis began again this time his voice held a touch of steel to it. "My office now!" He gasped out in a strangled tone watching as he wife still avoided his eye and strode out ahead of him her head held up high as the assembled staff began to gossip.

- - - - - - -

The walk to his office seemed to take forever; even Phillip seemed to pick up on the housekeeper's tense mood and quietened immediately nuzzling into her shoulder for comfort. When they reached the right door, Flora stood back, waiting for her husband to open the door and usher her in, but to her shock instead he barged past slamming the door open not even pausing to stop it from swinging back at her. Stopping it expertly with her foot the housekeeper slipped into the room, pushing the door shut with her elbow, waiting in trepidation for the storm that was about to break.

Pacing up and down in front of his desk unable to look around at his wife and that child until he had managed to place his rage back under his control, Walter tapped his fingers firmly on the mantelpiece, taking in a deep breath before demanding coldly. "Explain, now!"

"Walter please…" Flora began soothingly but the butler was not to be placated.

"No Madam….No please Walters, or sweetheart or any other such nonsense, this is after all a household matter and we will discuss as butler and housekeeper should. Or are you Madam now incapable of separating your professional duties from your private ones?"

"No Mr Jarvis." Flora replied immediately trying desperately to keep the tremble from her voice and all but succeeding. "I am unsure where to begin."

Finally the butler turned around, his normally calm and composed expression bristling at her remark. "Perhaps you should start with how this child appeared in our reputable house, why I wasn't immediately notified and just how is my supposedly respectable housekeeper involved in all of this!"

Taking a deep breath Flora recounted the events as she knew them, a woman had arrived last night and left the child with Elizabeth McDuff, Lizzy had not recognised her, nor did she mention who the boy's father was just that he worked at Taplows.

"Then why did she not come to me?" The Butler snapped cutting the housekeeper off mid-sentence.

"I do not know, I suspect she wanted to discover the boy's father and hand him over to him."

"So how did you get involved?...And Dammit Flora why didn't you tell me?" Jarvis demanded, his expression still angry but the coldness that had been present now seemingly evaporated.

"I found him by accident only this morning…and well everyone had so much to worry about and you were so busy…I know that is not a good enough reason Walter, but I'm your wife and I worry about you, even you aren't superhuman, and I thought I could deal with it without you needing to get involved. And he is such an adorable child, he's been so badly neglected by his own mother, I cannot grasp how any woman could be like that. I assumed she would regret her decision and return for the child and no one need be the wiser…."

"But she hasn't." The Butler added softly, finishing her sentence for her, watching as the young boy clung to his wife so needingly. "So he is nothing to do with you…He just seemed to know you…"

"Walter Corey when on earth would I have had the time to?….I mean honestly, he's what little over a year old…."

Shaking his head at his own primitive fear the butler moved to sit beside her taking her free hand with both of his and pressing it softly. "I know it was stupid but he just seemed to reach out specifically for you, and he's so dark yet so fair…."

"I assure you, he is no biological relation of mine Mr Corey."

"Yet he is of someone here!" The Butler retorted, sitting back in his chair as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "The question is who's!...Are you sure the mother didn't give any hints as to his identity?"

"I don't believe so." Flora muttered, hoping against hope her little lie would go undetected, at least until she could get to Will and warn him.

"Well he cannot stay here, and if we are unable to determine his parentage then it will have to be the orphanage."

"Oh no!" Flora gasped. "Please Walter don't send him there, you know those places are little or no better than the workhouse, he barely stands a chance of making it to his next birthday let alone ever making anything of his life. There must be another way surely?" She pleaded tightening her grasp on her husband's hand.

"Well what else am I to do? He's far too young to be passed off as an employee and it's not like he can stay here a drain on his lordships revenues…"

"But I can help look after him, and I know the girls would help…"

"They have enough to do with their own duties Flora! And may I remind you, you are expecting a child of our own soon, and will have more than enough to cope with…."

"But I can't let him go there Walter, I won't!" Flora retorted firmly, a measure of steel entering her voice. "I'll cope if I have to all by myself, why can't we look after him."

"I already said no Flora!" Walter retorted, this time a hint of annoyance creeping back into his voice. "And my word his final in such a matter…Dear me next you'll be suggesting we adopt the child."

"Well it is an idea…"

"No absolutely not!" The Butler barked, pulling away from his wife's grasp and shaking his head to underline his point. "Do you understand me wife, on this point I am adamant! No, no pleading or begging, do not even waste your breath my love because it will not work, I will not even consider it."

"But Walter…"

"No buts Flora, not one single word!" The Butler added finally, bringing his fist down sharply on the desktop, a resounding crash compounding his exclamation. However he could see that would do nothing to cut short his wife's argument but as she about to retort the door to his office burst open and in staggered an out of breath and extremely guilty looking William Forest.

For a moment the Jarvis allowed himself to wonder what the hell was so important Forest would barge in without knocking, but then his thoughts caught up with the circumstances and realisation dawned as bright and clear as a spring morning.

"I'm so sorry Mrs Ryan…" Will began to stutter causing the butler to glance over at his wife's expression of dread.

"You knew!" Jarvis gasped. "You knew and you lied, you lied to me…your own husband!" He added glaring across at his now silent wife, whose eyes were deliberately lowered so she couldn't witness the full force of her husband's fury.

"It's not her fault Mr Jarvis…" Will began, drawing himself up to face down the butler if necessary.

"I will get to you in a minute Forest!" Jarvis spat, turning his back on the footman as he closed in on his trembling wife. "Well?" He hissed. "Have you any stories and machinations to get yourself out of this hole?"

"No." Flora replied succinctly, raising her head to gaze bravely into her husband's red face. "Phillip is Will's; I knew it and I lied to you about it…And I am not sorry I did!"

"Why? To protect the brat? Or in some vain hope that if you were able to draw the hood over my eyes I would somehow consent to your insane suggestion?"

"To protect Phillip of course, but Will to, I know you Walter any excuse to throw him out and you'd take it, regardless of how many innocent people you hurt in the process."

"William Forest cannot and I doubt ever could be describe as innocent!" Jarvis spat whirling round to point at the footman, advancing on him jabbing his finger at Will's chest so firmly it unbalanced him. "This scrap of human effluence has never been innocent, he is a walking abomination, a stain on the honour of Taplows, a man who could so easily get some slag pregnant and walk away without a care. He pollutes my household, seduces your maids and yet Madam you think he is worthy of your concern and protection?"

"I…" Flora muttered her whole frame shaking with the ferocity of the butler's verbal attack.

"And you Forest." The Butler added turning back to glare at the footman. "How dare you sneak around getting my wife to tend and attach herself to your bastard, encouraging her to lie to her own husband? Why don't you have your current whore tend to the little brat, oh of course she's already tending to one I forgot, that and she's leaving first thing. I suppose that's why you've started sniffing around my Flora again, using your son to butter her up…"

"I have done nothing of the sort!" Will bit back, unable to take the verbal attack any longer without retorting. "You think your so bloody clever don't you Mr Jarvis, got it all figured out, only you haven't! I didn't know anything about the boy until late last night, and since then Mrs Ryan has kindly watched him for me till I could make arrangements to have him looked after properly."

Snorting the butler pulled away shaking his head. "Only you haven't gotten around to it yet have you Forest."

"Actually Sir I have!" Will retorted smugly, causing the butler to whirl around and the housekeeper to look up in surprise unconsciously hugging the child closer to her.

"I was able to talk to Dr Evans whilst he was visiting his lordship, see about getting Phil a place at the little school Mrs Evans has set up, I mean I know he's too young and everything but the Dr was most helpful he knows of a nice family in the village who he thinks will be willing to look after him till he is old enough as long as I pay for his board and upkeep. He promised to send me word by this evening, so I could walk him down during my dinner, after all I wouldn't want to inconvenience anyone." Will added spitting the last part out venomously in the butler's direction.

"Well that at least is something!" Jarvis exclaimed, sighing in relief that the child would be removed from their household, and more importantly from Flora within a matter of hours if not sooner. "Now take your boy and leave…Go on the pair of you get out of my sight!" He added with an air of finality, watching with a sickening feeling as Will practically had to prise his son away from the housekeeper as neither seemed inclined to let go.

"Flora please?" Will whispered watching as the tearful housekeeper kissed his son softly on his forehead before quickly handing him over hiding her face as the tears began to fall. "It's for the best." He added softly before disappearing out the door.

"For once Forest and I agree on something." Jarvis snorted amused by the absurdity of the situation.

"Then you are unfeeling bastards both!" Flora suddenly hissed, getting to her feet her whole frame shaking and ignoring her husbands command to wait she turned and strode out of the office heading for some much needed sanctuary of her own.

- - - -

"Are you lost, My Lord?"

Lord Montague was jolted out of his thoughts as he hurried, stealth-like along the corridor to the under-housekeeper's room, coming to an abrupt holt as a certain servant stepped in front of him. He had always known he might get stopped, or at least spotted, but he still wouldn't let Molly get herself caught dashing in and out of his chamber – the risks Mr Adams took every time he liaised with Lady Rebecca in her room were far greater than he wanted to put Molly through. The look on the servant's face was incredulous at first as his blue eyes took in the sight before them - a bedraggled-looking aristocrat who appeared to have been awake for at least 24 hours, a five o'clock stubble across his jaw line and his eyes dull and tired. Monty frowned, almost in confusion at seeing a servant down in the servants quarters, but after a moment straightened up and blinked as realisation dawned. He cleared his throat.

"Lost? No Mr Keneally, I, err….." Monty trailed off. It was no use. Frank's staid expression creased into a smug half-smile and he cocked his head, his eyebrow raised in blatant accusation. He pointed down the hallway, wagging his finger.

"Mrs Watson's room's that way, to the left - but I'm sure you already know that, don't you, sir?"

Monty's mouth fell open. This little shit was the last person he needed in his face after the day he had endured, he needed to get to Molly and not for just the usual reasons. He had questions – especially about the small matter of the alibi which had suddenly appeared. It had Molly Watson stamped all over it, Joseph James would do anything for her, Monty knew, the lad practically worshiped the earth she walked on.

"Mrs Watson?" Monty laughed nervously. It was worth a shot. "I've no idea what you could possibly mean, I was just…..looking for some water. There's nobody about, can't get the staff these days…."

"Pull the other one, Monty." Frank interrupted smoothly, leaning against the wall so Monty's path was completely blocked. The aristocrat held himself tall, pushing the feeling of utter exhaustion and desperation for comfort to the back of his mind. How dare Frank Keneally, of all people, talk to him like that?

Monty squared his shoulders. "I beg your pardon!"

Frank sniffed out a laugh and feigned surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry – pull the other one, MY LORD." Monty gulped as his mouth dried, his tongue plastering itself to the roof of his mouth so he could barely grunt let alone speak. His heart began to thump furiously in his chest as the man – no, the utter scum – who had got his wife pregnant with her fourth bastard child belittled him with a mocking grin. "Everybody bloody well knows what's going on with you two, we may be servants but we're not all thick. Like brother like sister it seems, shagging people they shouldn't right under the nose of their masters."

Monty found the resolve to step towards Frank, closing the gap between them. He knew he could flatten him if the mood took him, he had been working out more than usual lately and if his nature was of a violent disposition then his muscles would be aching for a fight right now. As it was, Monty simply clenched his fists and breathed deeply, his voice low and threatening. "You are hardly one to talk, Mr Keneally! I'm sure I don't have to remind you about your dirty little fling with my wife, and if you so much breathe a word to anyone I can finish you and mark my words I will! I know all about you, what you've done, all the scams you've got going on, all the bloody skeletons in your cupboard!"

"You wouldn't dare, you can't. Haven't you got a political career to think about, Lord Montague? Haven't you got to be whiter than white? It certainly wouldn't do that precious reputation of yours any good if it was to become common knowledge that you were regularly bonking an under-housekeeper – a MARRIED under-housekeeper at that – and her brother was the father of little Lord Hugo? And none of Lady Francesca's children were actually yours and couldn't claim their inheritance?" Frank felt elated at the sight of this sorry, wealthy wretch at his mercy. The terror in Monty's eyes were enough for Frank to realise he was on to something, the fellow was actually scared witless at the thought of being found out. That, at least, was something money couldn't stop, unless he was prepared to bribe every newspaper in London not to print it. Frank doubted he had quite that much money. "What an interesting scandal that would make, a new twist every day for a week, and it wouldn't matter to me as I'm sure some newspaper, maybe even the Times, would pay me a pretty penny for all the mud I could stick on you and plenty others in this shithole!"

"You may claim your money but then nobody would give you the time of day again, you wouldn't be trusted ever again, you would be ostracised for good!" Monty was desperate, he had to put him off, think up more threats which would see to his silence.

"Maybe that would be for the best, nobody gives tuppence for me round here, I might as well go out with a bang….." Frank paused, a frown furrowing his brow. Grace. It was all going so well with her and before long it wouldn't be just his little finger she would be wrapped around. Not if he could help it. His startling blue eyes narrowed as he considered what to say next. The older man was looking more agitated by the minute and Frank knew he had him over a barrel but somehow the two had reached a strange kind of stalemate.

It was then Frank decided to play his Ace. "Everybody also knows you're a suspect in the death of your father-in-law. Some may say it was a very convenient happenstance for him to wind up dead just as he threatens you with exposure over Mrs Watson."

"You seem to think you know a lot, Mr Keneally, but really you know nothing. I have an alibi, Mr James was with me the whole time." Monty tried his damnedness to keep his cool and looked the valet straight in the eye, but all he was met with was a cold, calculating stare. There was, however, no way he was going to let this scheming bastard get under his skin. He was running late and Molly was waiting for him, to spend their last night together in God only knew how long.

Frank was laughing horribly. "Joseph James! That pussy! His sort is easily lead, do what they're told them darkies, did you make him do it eh? 'Set fire to the old fool, will you, there's a good chap'!"

Monty opened his mouth to speak, in the vain hope some suitably strong retort would find itself from his brain to his voice box within those few precious seconds, but luckily – or unluckily, depending on hindsight – he was interrupted by the swish of skirts and a light, feminine clearing of the throat.

"Mrs Watson. A….a delight." The lord produced a withering smile but his heart had begun to thump. Molly placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head, raising her eyebrows as her hard gaze fell upon the valet. Frank looked desperately put-out at the unexpected intrusion, he had been on a roll, one accusation to another striking Monty with verbal blows. Maybe he had been about to confess his sins, it wouldn't have been unheard of, a man crumbling and coming clean because of the smallest, most innocent remark from a mere servant. His guilt had probably been eating him up inside all day, simmering away in the pit of his stomach as his mind went over events until he could barely focus on anything else. Maybe Lord Monty had been desperate to tell someone – anyone – and that someone might have been Frank Keneally as he had been the first person to say what everyone else was thinking. Frank clenched his teeth but Molly's expression remained inscrutable.

"Mr Keneally, shouldn't you be going about your business?" Molly took a step forward but was careful to keep a wary distance. She had heard on the grapevine what he was capable of, and even in front of Monty she didn't trust him an inch. "You have been away from your master for all of a few minutes, I trust you have been instructed not to let him out of your sight considering his current state, he could swallow his own tongue or worse!"

Her voice was strong and authoritative and reminded Monty of the first blissful time he had heard her; it had been love at first sound as he had never bore witness to such a strong-willed woman before, except for his grandmother. Molly, however, had a graceful fortitude in her voice, whereas his grandmother sounded like a dog with tuberculosis. Molly had been dressing down a maid at her old household but Monty had forgotten what on earth it was for, it was unimportant. Everything had become unimportant, apart from Molly, the moment he turned the corner into the drawing room and watched with silent caution from the door so not to interrupt this beautiful creature. It had been his first visit to his friend and political colleague Lord Fergus Dooley, and it certainly wasn't his last.

Right on cue, and to the surprise of all three, Lord Julian's bell rang down the corridor, loud and urgent. Molly faltered as a small smile twitched at her lips but quickly she recovered herself and pursed her lips. Frank merely gaped as he flushed scarlet and the muscles twitched in his jaw.

"I think that is for you and close your mouth, Mr Keneally, we are not a cod fish and not every woman wishes to be intimate with the back of your throat." Molly shocked herself with her insinuation but the twinkle in Monty's eye told her he was impressed – and highly amused.

Frank was caught firmly between a hefty rock and a very hard place; he could neither answer back to his superior, Mrs Watson, in the presence of a Lord whether he was her lover or not and if he turned and spat back at Monty with another accusation or threat he would weaken his own position. He felt two pairs of eyes, full of animosity, piercing his skull as he turned and stormed away.

For a moment the two remaining souls stood still and silent, a mute understanding between them that Frank Keneally knowing about their relationship was far from a good thing. Everyone else had retired to bed, or so they thought, so with a small gesture Molly turned quickly and darted back to her room, Monty in hot pursuit.

Shutting the door Molly took him by surprise, throwing her arms around his neck and dragging him close to her as she fell back against the rough wood. For a long, arousing moment they kissed with all the intense passion of a burning desire for each other. She hurriedly, professionally, unfastened his neck tie and let her hands glide over his buttons which she unfastened with ease before tugging the shirt and vest over his head so his upper body was naked and available. Without a word Molly slowly ran her hands down over his toned chest, tickling and teasing, feeling the ripple of his muscles under her fingertips.

"You could have easily given our friend Mr Keneally a bloody good hiding, Lord Montague, soon to be Montague Hamilton-Hussey MP." She breathed, brushing her lips against his.

Monty chuckled softly. "Yes, but you may have thought less of me, as might Julian."

"I could never, ever think less of you." Molly took his hand and led him the short distance to the bed as she began to tug at the fastenings of her dress. She hoped he would mention Joseph James and the mysterious alibi and so far she wasn't disappointed. She lowered herself onto the bed, her eyes firmly locked with his soft brown gaze. "Now, my Lord, I want you to not say another word. About anything. It is our last night and I wish us to enjoy it like it were our first time together."

- - - - - --

Slumped in the fireside chair Walter idly poked at the burning embers with the poker, in his other hand a half empty glass of his lordship's finest brandy from which he occasionally took a sip or swirled the remaining liquid around in the crystal glass watching as the light from the fire reflected off of the many facets casting reflected beams of light all over the tiny but comfortable sitting room. As usual he was sitting here still waiting for his wife to come upstairs, this time it had been a crisis with Lady Caroline's sheets that had kept her from his side for most of the evening.

But finally things were going to change around here, he had backed off for a while, especially after that debacle with bloody Forest's brat, he had let her avoid him all afternoon, hiding away in her office and still room. Well he had put his foot down then and the little blighter had been sent off. What on earth had Flora been thinking, him adopt Will's son and raise him as his own….

It must have been the pregnancy clouding her judgement just the same as over carrying on with her duties after the birth, he had almost choked on his brandy the other night when she had first suggested it. Well he had seen to that and despite Molly Watson's initial objection he knew that she wasn't going to let him down, after all as he had explained at length it was in all of their best interests especially when the baby came. How on earth did Flora think she going to cope with the responsibilities of her position and caring for their child? Had she intended strap the baby to her chest like one of those ancient amazons carrying on regardless or would she have finally taken his advice and give up in favour of an easier life, but whatever she would have eventually decided now they would never know.

After all surely it wasn't unreasonable for him to want his wife to give up working and look after their family? It wasn't like he couldn't support them without her pitiful wage he added, no he knew he had done the right thing. That quiet word in his lordship's ear earlier that evening had taken the matter out of his hands entirely, after all the Earl had already passed comment on falling standards, which of course had only made Flora work twice as hard rather than admit defeat; but now it was the Earl's decision so there couldn't be any unpleasant fallout in his direction for a change. Besides in his ill stupor the Earl would be willing to agree to anything as long as there was a drink in it for him, and Jarvis had bribed him with an entire decanter.

For a moment Jarvis allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy of a fulltime wife instead of the missing in action one that he had now. It would be perfect, she could spend the day looking after and teaching their children properly without being so exhausted that she had no time to pay him any attention as well. Then when they put the little ones to bed he would have someone to talk to about the stresses of the day, without it turning into yet another household business discussion, before heading off for an early night and that other type of attention he had been sorely lacking in for far too long now. Flora would be happier too, at the moment it was simply pride that stopped her admitting it, so come tomorrow he knew he'd have a few days of tears and tantrums but after that she would settle down and accept it and everyone would be happy so it wasn't like anyone could call his actions selfish!

Smiling to himself he finished the rest of his brandy settling back into his chair and allowing the warmth from the fire to gently lull him to sleep, dozing slightly enjoying his recurring day dream. Not surprisingly it contained his wife, who was back to her old sprightly form and dressed in that most provocative of wedding outfits as she virtually dragging him off to bed and began to do unspeakably naughty things to him that caused him to moan her name out loud. Such a thing might not have mattered if the lady in question hadn't returned a good few minutes previous and wasn't standing with an extremely amused expression on her face as her husband continued to talk and move in his sleep.

"That explains a lot." Flora mumbled jokily, her amused expression slipping somewhat as the memories of that afternoon returned.

"Flora?" Walter mumbled, shaking off his hazy state to turn and gaze at his wife, noting with disappointment her stern expression. "It was for the best you know." He muttered, taking another swig of his brandy, watching as she visibly tensed. "He is Will's son, and at least this way his real father will bring him up…"

"He needs a mother to." Flora snapped. "He's only a baby after all…"

"Indeed!" Jarvis retorted getting to his feet and walking slowly over to her. "and perhaps one day, when Mr Forest finds some woman stupid enough to marry him, he will get one."

Unable to think of a suitable reply that would do anything but make him even angrier Flora shook her head, padding into the bedroom her right hand trying to massage out that knot of tension that was growing in her lower back but she only made it a few feet before her fuming husband seized her wrist roughly and forced her to turn and look at him.

"Never walk away from me when I am talking to you!"

"You weren't talking Walter you were yelling and I'm sorry but I simply don't have the energy or the intention of standing here and arguing with you, I've hurt my back amongst other things and I need to lie down!" She added watching as his eyes softened slightly in concern before freeing her wrist from his now loosened grasp and waddling over to the wardrobe to change into her nightgown before climbing thankfully back into bed.

Whimpering sadly as she felt him crawl in beside her and turn his back on her without answering, unable to stop the tears from welling up in her eyes as she realised this was the first proper argument they had gone to bed on since their wedding, finding herself now unable to sleep without the security of his arms wrapped around her, the comforting lull of his heartbeat under her fingertips or his breath tickling her ear. Was this how things were going to be from now on? Them fighting and growing further and further apart day by day? In her nightmares whilst he had been on the other side of the world she often felt like she had already lost him, that he had grown so far from her that he no longer cared for her, and was happy and content in the arms of another; some nights it was Bridgette, some nights Marie, well as Flora had always pictured Walter's first wife, but lately there had been another woman lying contented within Walter's arms, Molly. …No that she could never bare, she had to do something before it was to late, after all he was the only man she had ever truly loved, her soul mate and her lawfully wedded husband.

"Walter", she whispered softly turning over and placing her hand gently on his arm, before resting her forehead between his shoulder blades, "I'm sorry please forgive me you didn't realise, you were only trying to protect me, and I thought I was doing the right thing but not saying anything..."

There was no reply, but Flora knew he wasn't really asleep like he was pretending, he had heard her he just wasn't ready to forgive her. Stifling a sob she turned back over but just as she was burying her head in her pillow so her crying wouldn't wake him a strong arm wrapped around her middle resting its hand gently on top of her bump as he spooned up against her, nuzzling his face into her neck and kissing her silky skin reverently. "I forgive you, you silly goose, just next time don't try and sort things out for yourself, we have to share everything! I'm your husband who else should you turn to with things?…Now are we going to put this behind us Mrs Corey, I don't want you getting anymore stressed, it cannot be good for our baby, and we have to put him first."

"Her." Flora retorted teasingly, threading her fingers through his as he rubbed her belly gently.

"Is there anything I can do for you Milday?" Jarvis asked softly, nuzzling gently into her neck, placing kisses deliberately along her neck and shoulder.

"Well…" Flora began turning over as quickly as she could manage causing her husband to sidle backwards in fear of being crushed.

"I didn't mean right away!" He joked watching as Flora pouted. "Alright what is it, it just better not be another foot massage!"

"No…Just hold me and kiss me, don't stop kissing me." She whispered softly stroking his face lovingly.

"At your command Milady." He replied sliding as close as he could before pulling her into his arms and kissing her as gently as if it was their first kiss all over again.


	8. Episode 6b

Early the next morning Flora Corey shifted distractedly around in her fitful sleep her hands clawing at the bed clothes as she subconsciously sought comfort from her husband's normally soothing presence, however this morning instead of a warm body lying beside her, her clutching hands found nothing but air and cold sheets.

"Walter help….Don't let them take him….WALTER!" Flora cried out in her sleep, waking herself up with the volume of her last appeal. For a moment she simply lay there panic griping her very being as her eyes flickered round the room expecting the figures from her nightmare to be there standing over her, lecturing her as they stole her baby telling her it was all her own fault, that she didn't deserve to keep her baby not after loosing the first one in such a foolhardy way. As if sensing its mother's distress the child moved inside her, delivering a well placed kick or punch which started Flora out of her cycle of panic and into her motherly role. Taking a deep breath to purge her fears Flora rubbed her hand across her belly whispering soothing words, which after a few minutes seemed to do the trick, it was then she could turn her mind to other matters…Just where the hell was Walter?

Glancing across at the delicate little clock Emily and Felix had brought them as a wedding present Flora gasped at the earliness of the hour, where on earth could he be at five thirty in the morning? If there had been a call for him she would have woken as she had never been a deep sleeper, so the only explanation is that he had wanted to sneak out without waking her. At such a thought Flora couldn't stifle the stab of fear that struck her heart, he wouldn't would he? Shaking her head in an effort to dispel that ridiculous nightmare, he loved her; he would never betray her like that. Would he?

Unable to lie still any longer Flora swung her legs out of bed and after roughly pulling on a warm shawl and her slippers she tip toed down the staff corridor heading towards the female quarters trying to be as inconspicuous as it was possible for a eight and a half month pregnant woman to be. It didn't take long before she reached the door she was looking for; pausing for a moment she considered the implications of what she was doing…Did she really want the answer to this question?

Screwing up her courage she crossed the corridor pressing her ear against the wooden panel and listened for any sign of life within. Hearing nothing she allowed herself a small whimper of relief but then just as she was pulling away a soft yet distinctive sound caused her blood to turn cold, now unable to pull away she heard the tell tale signs of a woman enjoying herself. Shaking with fury she placed her hand on the handle at first intent on barging in and giving them both a bawling out, but at the last minute all her courage escaped her and shaking slightly she dropped her hand unable to keep the tears from trickling down her cheeks as another much deeper voice joined his partner only to be immediately shushed by Molly who added in a brazen manner. "Quieter my darling we can't be heard…If someone found out, your wife would kill us!" Before trailing off into tell tale giggles and other sultry moans as her partner endeavoured to change her mind.

"Too late!" Flora muttered stepping away and hurrying off down the corridor, unsure about what to do or how to act, unable to resist blaming herself for the entire affair. She was the one who had hired Molly in the first place after all, she was also the one who had denied her husband certain conjugal entitlements since he had returned, and last night she had seen the results of his frustration first hand its was clear in his eyes not to mention other tell tale parts of his anatomy, he had been a complete gentleman about it, reassuring her that from now on he was quite content to wait when it was now obvious that he was not.

She could hear Walter's whole argument playing in her head now, he would remind her that he had certain needs and that after being faithful to her for the entire trip away he was expecting some relief on his return but instead she had refused him time and time again and so he had no option but to look for it elsewhere. He would be so convincing, telling her that it was nothing more than a physical relief just like with that slut Lady Francesca, what had he said then?... Oh that he could do things to her that he couldn't to Flora, was that why he was with Molly now, perhaps she had offered the same service that a certain cockney whore from Bristol used to provide?

Stifling the feelings of nausea and now nagging back ache Flora pushed open the sitting room door and slumped down the fireside chair to wait for her missing husband still unsure about how to act, could she simply pretend it had never happened? It wasn't like he could truly feel anything for Molly, it would be just like Gertie, no love just sex, and they were soon to have a child together would it be right to ruin their families entire future happiness because Walter had faults like every man. Couldn't this time she look the other way?

Surprisingly she didn't have to wait long as before the clock struck six the door to their rooms opened and in snuck a very guilty looking Walter Corey a towel hung around his neck and even in that dim light Flora could make out the sheen of sweat that still clung to his brow his shirt clinging somewhat to his body.

"Been getting some exercise?" Flora hissed from her hiding place by the fire causing Walter to jump round clutching his chest in surprise.

"Flora darling what are you doing up and about?" He demanded his voice sounding strained and panicky.

"I had a nightmare and couldn't get back to sleep…Where have you been?" She replied softly, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as she scrutinised his flushed appearance, unable to keep the cool tone from her voice.

"Oh well nowhere I couldn't sleep and thought I'd go for a walk, it's this heat…" He hedged moving across the room and pulling open the sitting room curtain so he could get a better look at her. "Are you sure you're alright, it's not like you to wake up and you look very pale…"

"Unlike you! You look positively flushed, like you've been doing something more strenuous!"

"Flora what are you trying to say?" Jarvis replied moping his brow with the end of his towel.

"Me? Nothing! Anyone else up and about, I don't suppose you saw Molly Watson on your travels?" Flora baited her eyes flashing dangerously. "Perhaps she couldn't sleep either and so joined you on 'your walk'." She added scoffing at the ludicrousy of his excuse.

"No she must be still in bed." Walter replied not a hint of guilt in his eyes, which puzzled Flora immensely.

"Oh but you know that!" Flora retorted.

"Not without going and checking, no!"

"Well why don't you?" Flora bated. "I'm sure she would welcome you with open…

"Cause I have no interest in doing so!" Jarvis snapped irritably throwing his towel down sharply onto the other chair "….Mrs Watson is a sensible if somewhat irritating woman who I am sure is fast asleep as we speak and I have absolutely no interest of going to her room, or going for a walk or even sharing a cup of tea with that good lady…However talking of beds shouldn't you be getting back to yours Mrs Corey…" He added suddenly playful, pulling her out of her chair and leading the dumbstruck Flora into their bedroom. "How about I tuck you in?" He muttered running his hands down her back as he nibbled on her earlobe.

"No…I…" Flora began as even more doubts surfaced; she knew what she had heard at Molly's door but if he had only just sated his appetite why was he looking at her in such a hungry predatory way but whatever she was going to say was quickly cut off by the ravenous kiss her husband bestowed on her as he guided them both over to the bed.

"I'll behave I promise…Just kissing and…" Walter muttered kissing along her jaw. "Well it doesn't mean we can't have some fun…" He trailed off, pulling his sweat stained shirt off over his head before gently seizing her wrists and pulling her close.

"I'm sorry Walter but I just can't!" Flora blurted out, tears springing to her eyes as she suddenly pulling out of his loving embrace, how could she lye there knowing those lips that captured hers so passionately had only minutes before been locked so desperately with another. She had thought she could live with the knowledge of his infidelity and put it down to the extenuating circumstances but as she stormed out of the bedroom leaving an even more frustrated and confused Walter Corey behind her she realised that no matter what his reasons there was no way she could ever enjoy her husbands touch without the picture of him and Molly springing to mind.

The next morning was the usual chaos downstairs every time visitors came and went; luggage and provisions for the long, cold journey up to Scotland were heaved onto carriages and certain members of the household prepared themselves for the farewells which would almost break their hearts. Most of the servants had enough wit to realise they should give Mr Adams a wide berth, but those who were foolish enough to cross his path would find their heads well and truly bitten off.

Nobody was immune to his foul mood, not even the butler himself, but in hindsight even he had to admit to himself that asking Mr Adams outright if he had indeed finished with Lady Rebecca for good and renounced his son just as they were to leave for months was maybe a little insensitive. It was, of course, an issue Jarvis would return to, but when Adams was back to his old self and had got over the 'mad little phase' he was going through. Eventually, Lady Rebecca would be a distant memory and Jarvis would have back an under-butler worth his salt who was committed to his work.

Many felt Taplows had seen enough death recently, and one more coffin being loaded by the pallbearers into a carriage was becoming rather too morbidly familiar for everyone's liking. Lady Rebecca had donned her mourning dress again but had refused to let her baby be dressed in black so as she cradled him the stark whiteness of his shawl was striking against the dark lace of her bodice. Andrew had returned to his room early, leaving her and baby Hugo to sleep a little longer before the child woke for his feed, but now the moment they had been dreading was upon them and they faced each other, alone, in the library next to the bookshelf where they had been reunited after their long separation over the summer.

"Here." Rebecca whispered to Adams, pulling out a small envelope from the pocket her skirts as Hugo slept silently across her chest. "It's just a small note. Please don't read it until we've gone."

Adams sighed and accepted the letter. He brushed his hand across her cheek and she kissed his fingers. "Somehow, this day is far harder then when I went to India. I feel so helpless, you leaving me here. How am I to know you won't meet someone who can fulfil your needs better than I?"

"Someone rich you mean, with land, a title?" Rebecca said softly, but her tone was sarcastic. Adams nodded. "I've told you, my sweet man, I don't need any of those things – even without money from my father and from Hugo's estate I still wouldn't need it. It's you I want, you are everything to me, and I'm not lying when I say one day we will be together. I refuse to let some other man bring up your child."

"You say that now, but every eligible man will be beating down your door to get to you, soon you will no longer be in mourning for Hugo and Sir Rufus will be chasing you around again, desperate for your hand, and more besides." Adams bit his lip, furious at his own shortcomings and insecurities. It had surprised him just how long she had loved him and hadn't tired of her bit of 'servant rough', they may have broken the taboo of the class divide but that didn't mean they had even begun to break down the prejudices of society. Sooner or later, with him out the way miles away at Taplows with only the occasional letter until she could return, she would fall for another more worthy suitor, remarry and he wouldn't have so much as a lock of hair to remember his son by.

"Don't talk like that. I will return, I promise, my love. Sooner than you may think, if Monty returns in a while." Rebecca's eyes were wide and pleading as she handed over Hugo for a brief cuddle. It was time to leave and she didn't wish Andrew to get into trouble with Jarvis for going missing just as the carriages were being brought round. Adams hoped to God Will bloody Forest wouldn't barge in at any moment to see the tears pooling in his gruff superior's eyes as he kissed Hugo's cheek for the last time.

"You watch over your mummy, d'you here, my son?" Adams muttered, his voice breaking. As if he knew his father was talking to him Hugo opened his blue eyes and stared, unblinking, up at the face close to his. "I love you both very much."

"Will you miss me too, father?"

Adams glanced up, his eyes pooled with such a well of tears the figure by the door was for a moment blurred, but he recognised the voice and his heart leapt. This was his family, together for the last time for only God knew how long, and as Lizzie approached him he reached out with his free arm and drew her into a hug, kissing her forehead. "I'll miss all of you, but at least I can rest easy in the knowledge you will all be together."

-------

"What will you do? About Francesca?" Molly had to ask him. Even though he was dressed in his greatcoat and top hat for the long journey ahead she had managed to take him aside briefly as Lady Rebecca watched forlornly as her father's carriage was pulled to the front of her own.

Monty cast a suspicious glance at Frank who was propping up his master. He might have thought Lord Julian would have made the effort to not be pissed out his skull to say a final farewell to Cecil, but that was probably asking too much.

"You are right, I cannot leave her even after Keneally's baby is born, not yet, not now I've been selected for a seat; she will do her duty to me as my wife, support me until I'm in Parliament then we can quietly separate. I'll make sure she stays silent and she doesn't take another lover again, whether it be the stable hand or the Prime Minister."

If Molly was fearful of the answer to her next question then she did well to hide it, but deep down she knew the answer. "Tell me, I know I shouldn't ask, but….you won't take to her bed, will you?"

"Certainly not. I may have four children which are not my own, and I vowed long ago to look after them as if they were, it's not their fault their mother's a whore, but that doesn't mean I wish to have a legitimate heir with her. I don't wish to run that risk, so she – and I, till I come back down to Bristol – will remain celibate." Monty's voice was firm, as if he had already rehearsed the answer but at least that told Molly he had given it careful thought and was mindful of her feelings. "If I can't make Keneally suffer then she will share the blame for both of them, it will certainly be the last time she chases round anything in a wig and stockings."

Reassured, Molly squeezed his elbow hurriedly. She so wished to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him, he looked so incredibly dashing. How she would content herself to just the images of him in her head she just didn't know, the next time she would see him he would be an MP, now he had secured the Earl's vote. He was to return in a couple of months but to travel to Bristol first for the election, then he would pay Molly a visit. He hadn't been able to promise her he would bring Lady Rebecca, especially if his ghastly wife was in tow so she could parade her son in front of Frank's nose in a vain effort to make him jealous.

The Earl was shivering in the doorway, his complexion pale and drawn. The occasion was grim and Jarvis remained stony-faced as he watched his under-butler closely, every now and again casting his eye towards Mrs Watson who had begun to fuss around Lady Rebecca – and, even more curiously, Lord Hamilton-Hussey. The last thing he needed was another member of his staff becoming obsessed with a member of the aristocracy, one was surely enough.

To the butler's surprise, his wife appeared from the side of the house, wrapped in so many layers of shawls she looked even bigger. It was a warm day so the sight of her shivering alarmed Jarvis a little; she was hobbling slightly and looked even paler than the supposedly 'sick' Earl who was sneezing and snivelling and complaining of the draught. It was the first time the old walrus had been out of bed for two days, and it showed. A small smile tugged at the corner of Jarvis' mouth as he relished the thought of ordering Forest to bathe His Lordship after days in bed, it could surely be the worst thing the young man would see in his lifetime even taking into consideration the wrong end of Mr Adams' fist flying towards his face.

"Take care, Flora my dear." Rebecca whispered to her friend as she gazed at her with desperate concern. She took Flora's hand gently in her own and the housekeeper could tell the Lady had been crying, but she doubted the tears were just for her father.

"I will, and don't you worry about Mr Adams, Walter and I will keep a good eye on him." Flora raised a smile and patted Rebecca's fingers. "Have a safe journey, and by the time I see little Lord Hugo again he will have a playmate."

Rebecca tightened the ribbon of her bonnet then pecked Flora on both cheeks. "Your baby will still be in her crib when I return, you mark my words. I intend to return with Monty, I don't care what my sister may say. And it WILL be a 'she', Flora, I can feel it in my bones. Make sure you give her a beautiful Irish name, and write to me after the birth!"

The housekeeper nodded emphatically, but winced slightly as she rubbed her back. Rebecca shot a glance at Jarvis but he failed to notice; the Earl had begun wheezing and so the butler had ordered Fred to take him back inside to the comfort of his bed. Muttering something about "those damned bedsores" the Earl pushed away the footman and with a brief wave to Monty hurried back inside.

Hugo had begun to cry, as if he knew exactly what was happening and felt very unsettled, but Lizzie hushed him as she stepped into the carriage next to Rebecca, who had insisted they travel in the same carriage. The horses neighed and stamped their hooves, snorting loudly as they chomped at the bit to get going.

"Thank you for everything, Mr Jarvis. It's been a pleasure." Monty smiled, reaching out and taking the butler's hand firmly in his. Jarvis was slightly surprised by this gesture, but he shouldn't have been. Monty had always been courteous and kind to the staff during his stay; a real gentleman in fact and Jarvis always felt his presence was a delight at Taplows. He was genuinely sad to see him go, as was Mrs Watson, it seemed.

Jarvis nodded but his body language remained formal and professional. "I am sure his Lordship the Earl would be delighted to provide you will his hospitality again in the near future, should you require it."

Monty moved off and turned to Adams, tipping his hat. He didn't speak, but the look in his eye told him that he was sure to watch over Rebecca and Hugo until she could return. At least Adams could rest in the knowledge that his dearest had an ally up in Scotland.

Finally, as Rebecca watched forlornly out of her window, the horses moved off and the familiar sound of the great wheels of the carriages crunching on gravel made Adams' gut tighten in sadness. He hadn't been alone at Taplows without knowing Rebecca was only a few rooms away for months and he simply wanted to break down in tears. She was waving at him and Flora, a sorrowful smile etched on her beautiful face, and the housekeeper returned the wave as she rubbed her back. Jarvis had already gone back inside, as had the footmen and the under-housekeeper. The tears had already begun to streak Molly's face and she knew she had better run and clean herself up. Flora and Adams stood alone in silence as the carriages became small specks in the distance, their own thoughts of dread for the future consuming them, until Flora gave a small yelp of pain.

"Are you alright, Mrs Corey?" Adams enquired, jolting himself out of his thoughts. He instinctively put his hand out to steady her as she took a step back, but instead of reassuring him she glared at him furiously.

"Yes, thank you Mr Adams, I am completely fine!" She snapped as Adams blinked in surprise. "It's just a twinge, something as a man you wouldn't understand! Why is it us poor women have to go through these things alone while men can go off gallivanting around the world or indeed to other rooms in the house without a care or a thought!"

The under-butler was dumbfounded. He didn't need a telling-off by Mrs Corey just as the love of his life and his son finally disappeared out of sight. "I, err…."

With a huff, Flora turned on her heel and waddled off, biting her lip as the pain became slightly more intense and lower down her stomach. Adams watched her inquisitively, but then he remembered the letter Rebecca had given him. Jarvis would have his guts for garters if he didn't hurry up, so with a glance around he saw nobody then slid his thumb under the seal of the envelope. It was scented with her perfume and he sniffed it; it would, he decided there and then, remain under his pillow until all the scent had gone. He began to read:

My darling Andrew,

By the time you read this Hugo and I will be on our way, but do not be sad. My love for you has grown stronger by the day since I have had the delight of discovering Taplows, and you have opened my eyes to the world and proved what shallow a life I had been leading. You and Flora are my very best friends and you were both there for me when Hugo died. Although I have gone it will not be for long, but in the meantime I rest easy knowing you will be able to watch over little Archie and my dearest Hugo, both of whom I miss very much.

I will write as soon as I arrive home to inform you we returned safely. You mean more to me than anyone I have ever known, my sweet Andrew, you are the stars which light up my night, the sun which brightens my day, and I can only hope you will wait for me. Do not concern yourself with the likes of Lord Gannon, my feelings towards you will never change, and Hugo will look forward to seeing his father again very soon.

All the love in the world,

Rebecca

- - --- -

"I to have to say this although I doubt it will come as any great surprise to you Mrs Rya…Jarvis…Cor.. Oh whatever your blasted name is these days," The Earl huffed the strain of trying to remember those inconsiderate changes to his subordinate's names taxing him greatly, "But I am going to have to ask for your resignation!"

"What?" Flora gasped out loud in shock, unable to believe the words he had just uttered

"Your resignation woman or have you been growing deaf as well as incompetent?" Algernon snorted at his own joke whilst he beheld the stunned woman in front of him looking at her closely for perhaps only the second time during her entire employment; his eyes noting for the first time the beneficial effect that married had had on her other than well the obvious and he toyed with the idea that perhaps he had picked the wrong servant to dally with as at least this one was not only attractive but evidently fertile as well before quickly dismissing that idea as absurd.

"Your resignation on my desk before lunch unless of course you'd prefer to be sacked?" He added maliciously watching her physically flinch at those words.

"No of course not!" Flora retorted automatically as a numbness set in. "But why?" She asked her beautiful eyes starting to tear up as she looked the earl directly in the eye for a moment before he glanced away uncomfortably.

"I would have thought that would have been obvious!" He snorted waving dismissively at her large belly. "I cannot go around ignoring the fact that my married housekeeper is expecting a child and it is no longer decent for you to be seen in mixed company. When Jarvis asked my permission he never mentioned anything about a family and although as a man of the world I do realise that these things tend to take care of themselves where married couples are concerned, hell even unmarried as well, but it was never part of the agreement; you will hardly have time to tend to your husband with a newborn around so inevitably Taplows would suffer."

"But…." Flora began chocking slightly in surprise as his lordship didn't even note her objection and carried on regardless, like a steam engine at full throttle.

"And as you know next week we will have several important dignitaries arriving and I will not be embarrassed in such a manner in my own house, allowing a heavily pregnant woman to continue working its obscene, and my friends would assume it's because I still can't afford a proper one and I will not be the subject or ridicule and gossip in my own estate!" He added finally slamming his fist down firmly onto his antique writing desk, wincing slightly at the sudden shoot of pain in his clenched fist before shaking his throbbing hand gingerly and once more glancing up at the now trembling woman before him for a moment a flash of concern flickering over his features as he thought she might very well collapse on the expensive blue silk rug he brought back from Indian so he added this time in a more gentle tone.

"You have been a good housekeeper in your time Mrs Ryan, and that will be noted in your excellent reference but being the practical woman you normally are in your well…normal state…" The Earl spluttered nervously whilst trying to think of the correct way to phrase it. "Yes well you know what I mean, in your current condition your services are no longer required, I've already sounded out your deputy Mrs Watkins or Wat…ever her name is, and she seemed eager to take on the role and as I understand it she is practically running the household already so there is no reason why you can't step down immediately, she assures me she has everything under control!"

"I see." Flora retorted sharply her tears quickly vanishing as her cheeks flushed with anger. "She said that did she?"

"Yes I am glad we are in agreement, now if you could send Forest in on your way out I could do with a snifter of brandy to get my appetite up, what's Chef serving by the way?"

"Quail." Flora replied automatically as she headed to the door not even remembering to curtsey politely before she left but the Earl didn't seem to notice.

"Mr Forest the Earl wants you!" Flora snapped as she stormed out of the study catching the footman unawares whilst he ear wigged by the door. "But then again you already know that!" She hissed, wincing slightly in pain as that back ache from the night before returned unexpectedly.

"Yes Mrs Corey…Flora I'm so sorry are you alright?" Will whispered his young face showing genuine concern.

"I'll be fine nothing a few sharp words, a good cry and sit down won't solve but thank you for asking!" She added patting the footman's hand softly. "At least someone seems to be taking my feelings into consideration, shame it wasn't one of my close friends or employer!" She hissed spitefully, her expression only softening when she caught sight of Will's now worried expression. "I'll be fine I promise, but I think you better get in there before his lordship decides to send you packing as well!" So with a brief smile of encouragement Will disappeared into the study leaving a silently fuming Flora Corey to stand and plot her next action.

- - - - - -

A few minutes later a now completely fuming Flora Ryan stormed down through the servants quarters, well as fast as a heavily pregnant woman with back pain could stride but the furious expression more than negated any comedy value from her determined waddling. It was all making sense now, all those stopped conversations when she had entered the room and to think at the time she hadn't even been suspicious preferring to think they planning a nice surprise for her rather than stabbing her in the back. It didn't come as such a such a surprise from Walter, as despite the Earl not mentioning her husbands involvement this little stunt positively reeked of him, after all he had down such a thing before and she really should have seen it coming, all those subtle little hints about taking some time off, encouraging her to stay in bed longer and let Molly accompany him to the morning meetings or deal with the irksome Lady Caroline. Those double crossing bastards had been slowly digging out the ground from under her and she being so stupid and trusting hadn't even realised until it was too late!

Well they weren't going to get away with this!

Flinging the door to her office wide she surveyed the cold luncheon all laid out for the senior staff who any moment would start to arrive but all she could think about where the Earls cruel words, incompetent was she?

"Well if I'm so incompetent how come there is enough food on the table…." She huffed grabbing the nearest dish, a plate of devilled eggs and flinging it at the wall.

"Mrs Ryan…" Mr Simpkins gasped out from the doorway as he saw his creation go flying. "Stop please."

But the housekeeper was oblivious to his presence her attention turning to the stunning pork pie that was the table centrepiece. "Slipping standards…Well I'll show him slipping!" And she grabbed hold of the pie whirling round to face the panicking cook who suddenly had to jump out the way, the trifle he was carrying sloshing dangerously as the housekeeper used the pie like a cheese and hurled into the corridor watching with satisfaction as it smashed dramatically against the far wall pieces of pastry flying up into the air, scattering far and wide and alerting the approaching staff to the crisis.

"Flora what on earth are you doing…." Molly began as she arrived panting to survey the devastation. "Are you quite mad?"

"No but you must be MY FRIEND," She retorted with a sneer whilst flinging subsequent bread rolls in her former deputy's direction, "Did you really think I wouldn't find out!"

"I don't know what you are talking about!" Molly retorted but Flora could tell from her slightly nervous tone and the way she couldn't look her in the eye that she was right all along.

"I think you do, I think you not only know but that you plotted and schemed with your accomplice well you'll be happy to know you've both got what you wanted, me sacked that it is!" Flora hissed. "I just hope it was worth it Molly my dear…" She trailed off as they both heard the booming voice of the butler as he strode towards the dining room demanding to know what the hell was going on.

Whirling round Molly stuck her head round the door and called out down the corridor to the approaching butler. "Mr Jarvis please come and reason with your wife she isn't herself."

"Oh that's it run to him instead of doing the honest thing and telling me the truth…Tell me Molly my dear has there been anything else you've been turning to my husband for other than career advancement?" Flora asked her voice dangerously low as she leaned against the table to ease her now chronic back pain. "Because if you both haven't been arranging my removal then WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU BOTH BEEN DOING TOGETHER?"

"Flora…" Jarvis suddenly cut in his eyes widening as he took in the state of not only the room but his practically hysterical wife, and quickly realising he might have made a significant lapse in judgement, he had expected her to be a little upset but not to react like this.

"Don't you Flora me Mr Jarvis." Flora hissed spitefully glaring at her husband with the full force of her hatred, so much so that he couldn't even detect the faintest residue of affection in her eyes as she advanced towards them "Don't you dare scheme and plot and do god knows what else with this viper behind my back and then stand there and call me Flora!"

"I haven't done anything!" Jarvis exclaimed.

"LIAR!" Flora screeched suddenly seizing the poor innocent trifle out of Mr Simpkins grasp and chucking it all over her stunned husband. "You dirty cheating backstabbing liar." She added watching with demented glee as the whipped cream and custard hit him plum in the face whilst the fruit and sponge fingers hit his chest and slid down soaking his neatly pressed suit.

For a moment no body moved watching as the frozen butler slowly wiped the mess from his handsome face. "I think it best we continue this conversation in private!" He exclaimed indicating for Simpkins to get the hell out of there and close the door behind him so cutting off the domestic from the now assorted gaggle of servants who had crowded round.

"No!" Flora snapped. "I want everyone to know what a pair of vipers you are, I know you were involved, the Earl was his usual less than discreet self about it!" She lied, true he had betrayed Molly but he hadn't mentioned Walter but then they didn't know that.

"So what if he did." Jarvis snapped. "He only asked my opinion on the matter, as the Butler and not the husband of the current housekeeper, and as such I was bound by my honour to tell him what I thought!"

"Oh and what was that, that I was incompetent? That standards are slipping when we all know that is not the case, and in fact if it wasn't for my personal intervention there would have been significant problems or has that debacle at the last party somehow escaped your selective memories? Apparently so and the Earl is such a pompous fool that he refuses to allow us to hire more staff, saying we found some way to cope before and he sees no reason to change that now. But somehow I don't think that is what you chose to tell his lordship, no you preferred to use me as a scapegoat, my child as an excuse to sack me and muscle in your new close friend as my replacement." Flora added sneering at the word friend, emphasising to all around she hardly suspected that to be the state of their relationship.

"Nothing is going on Flora I swear it, yes I admit to talking to his lordship about taking over as housekeeper and yes I did tell him when he asked that I thought you were finding it difficult to cope, and I'm not going to apologise for that!" Molly snapped. "You can't cope on your own at the moment so what are you going to be like when the little one arrives, but I forgot Flora Corey is so damn stubborn and perfect she actually thinks she can do both when most women would just be damned grateful to have one or the other!"

"How dare you!" Flora snapped. "I took you in and taught you practically everything you know, over the last few months I trusted and confided in you not as a deputy but as my friend and this is how you repay me? It's not my fault if you're jealous of what I have Molly that's your problem, I worked damn hard for every bit of it and I deserved it, but instead of going out and making a career of your own and family of your own you decide to try and take mine well I am not going to let you get away with it, I swear I am not!" She added her voice getting higher and more emotional as she fought back tears. "You were never my friend and you never will be…"

"Flora it wasn't her fault!" Jarvis whispered taking steps towards his stunned wife.

"I should have known you'd step in to protect her, but then I suppose she must have been providing you such welcome relief after all those months without anything and then coming home to a frigid wife, well I suppose you owe her that much! And to think every time I was suspicious I put those feelings aside, blaming myself, telling myself it was my fault that I was the one who going slowly insane, that you would never ever do that to me. Even when you keep disappearing and not telling me where you have been I have put my accusations aside and trusted you, when in reality I have been right all alone!"

"Flora there is nothing of that nature going on I swear it!"

"Really then why the secret meetings, the hushed conversations, and then there was those flower's Molly's suddenly been getting in the last week or two since you arrived home, flowers which are so similar to those you used to buy me, and its not like she is friendly with anybody other than you and Mr Adams and he's her brother for goodness sake and if it there was some secret admirer why wouldn't she tell me unless of course her paramour just happened to be my husband!"

"I haven't sent any flowers!" Jarvis snapped, closing the distance and grasping her elbow. "You are being ridiculous, I could never have eyes for any other woman, you're my wife and I love you even if you do exasperate me at times."

"Oh really then what about the early morning disappearing acts that you refuse to explain, going for a walk? You must think I am a gullible idiot to swallow that Walter! I know what I heard, the sainted Molly Watson having it away with a certain married man!" Flora added whirling round to face the now pale and trembling Molly. "What no words of denial?"

"I don't know what you are talking about Flora, the stress has made you delusional!" The deputy housekeeper spat back but Flora could tell her words were for show and did little to convince her of her deputy's innocence.

"But Molly is right you are delusional, delusional and stubborn, I asked you to ease up, hell I even begged you to think about retiring but did you even listen… I am fed up with you putting your job and Taplows before your marriage and our child and so I took steps to prevent you from harming them both."

"What by destroying them yourself!"

"No, the doctor told me you had to rest or risk our child and I made a choice Flora it may not be one you like or agree with but that is tough!"

"How dare you I am an adult capable of my own decisions…"

"Well you're certainly not acting like an adult, so I'll treat you like a child if you prefer…" He trailed off frogmarching her towards the door.

"Let go of Me Walter I am not a child and I refused to have you order me around like a member of your staff which I hasten to remind you I am no longer so what the hell do you think you're doing!" Flora demanded as he led her up the stairs to their room, but Walter didn't answer instead he opened the door and dragged her inside before suddenly turning round and striding back out into the corridor locking the door behind him.

"What the…" Flora screeched leaping forward and banging her fist on the wooden door whilst fumbling on her chain for her skeleton key.

"If you're going to act like a child then I will treat you like a child, you are to remain in your room until you calm down, I will have some lunch sent up to you once we have managed to salvage what's left!" He added vindictively.

"How dare you, you can't keep me in here for long!" Flora snapped trying in vain to unlock the door from the inside but failing as the cunning Butler had left the key in the door the other side and so she couldn't get hers in. "Dammit Walter open this door immediately!" She screeched but there was no reply other than the dry echo of her own words down the corridor.

-- - -

I'll show him! That cocky arrogant bastard who the hell does he think he is ordering me and around and making decisions about my life without even consulting me? I am not a child or his chattel not matter what that certificate might say, dammit I'll make him sorry for betraying me, even if he hasn't strayed in the literal sense, and I still am not certain about that, well one moment I am and the other I'm not. What I've seen and heard points one way but something in his eyes tells me he hasn't, God what mess this has become…

"Somebody let me out!" Flora strode over and pounding her fists once more on the hard wood screamed at the door. "Walter Corey if you don't let me out of here this second when I see you next I'll wring that scrawny neck of yours…" But still there was no answer.

Trembling with a dangerous fury, shock and emotional turmoil Flora leant her head against the cold wood straining her hearing for any sign of life outside her room. Finally she managed to overhear a snatch of conversation, it was Walter and…Emily, thank goodness there was no way she would condone her son's behaviour. Straining her hearing Flora was able to make out Emily's words as she ranted at her son.

"Don't be stupid Walter it's barbaric keeping her locked up like an animal, just listen to her she's even more furious than before."

"She acted like an animal so she gets treated like one, you've seen what she did to the dining room, if she isn't kept locked up until she calms down then what happened to the pie could happen to both mine and Molly's heads."

"Well what did you expect she was going to be pleased about your little scheme, I would have thought you knew her better than that Walter, and getting involved with Molly how dense can you be?"

"It wasn't like that, look I'll try and explain over a cup of tea, by then she might have calmed down enough and you can come up and talk to her whilst I make my trip into town…."

That was all she could make out as the now fading clomp of footsteps drowned out the muttered words.

"Emily DON'T LEAVE ME!" She screamed at the top of her lungs pounding on the door once more as her last hope for escape evaporated. Sobbing now she slumped to the floor, 'involved with molly', did everyone seem to know something was going other than her, why didn't she see it earlier, all that fighting should have been an obvious sign of attraction why else would Molly have tried so hard to persuade her not to marry him…

"Well if he thinks I am going to sit here and let him carry on right under my nose whilst I play the meek stay at home wife raising his brood whilst he cavorts with his mistress under my very nose then he has another thing coming."

Once more her temper rising Flora stormed into the bedroom, flinging open the wardrobe and dragging all her clothing out of it before doing the same with her dressing table drawers, she wasn't going to stay here and be humiliated she was a respectable married woman she could go wherever she wanted now. She'd go home and visit her mother, Walter wouldn't dare follow her over to Ireland as for some reason he had an irrational fear of the place and now her brother was all grown up the farm would be doing well and she could run the house whilst looking after both her ailing mother and the baby. If she left today it would only be a day or so before she could be on a boat and then less than week she could be home.

"See I don't need Taplows or Walter!" She exclaimed out loud more to try and reassure herself than anything else. Now her mind was made up she leant down as far as she could ignoring the now almost constant ache in the small of her back and grasping the handle of the nearest trunk she pulled with all her strength dragging it out. Straightening up she winced at the sudden stabbing pain in her side, but she was so preoccupied with dumping all her worldly possessions into the trunk that she dismissed it as a strain from standing up so quickly. However the one that followed barely five minutes later was so intense she couldn't ignore that one as gasping in shock she collapsed onto the bed.

"Not now baby…Oh God no…" Flora wheezed, clamping her teeth down on her bottom lip so hard it drew blood but that was the least of her worries at this time; waiting for the contraction to subside before levering herself to her feet and hobbling towards the door stopping in shock halfway there as her water's broke. Now shaking in panic as the realisation she might have to do this all alone set in, Flora was spurred into action, tugging at the fastenings of her dress so she could at least breath properly she made it to the window. Leaning against the cold stone wall for support she managed to open one of the casement windows and taking as deep a breath as she could manage screamed out for help.

- - - -

Meanwhile downstairs a now placated Emily watched as her son got into the carriage, settling himself down before leaning out of the window. "I won't be gone long but the Earl insists that I attend to this personally, bloody fool," he added under his breath before catching his mother's knowing glance.

"And Flora?" She asked pointedly.

"Go and talk to her for me, take her some lunch up and try and get her to listen to you…"

"Isn't that something her husband should be doing?" Emily cut in.

"I would if I wasn't afraid she would bludgeon me to death with a poker before I had even gotten out my first sentence!" Jarvis retorted. "She'll listen to you then I'll come and talk to her when I get back…"

"Just make sure you do my son." Emily added suddenly whirling round as she thought she heard a yell from on high. "Did you hear that?" She asked Walter who simply shrugged.

"No."

"It sounded like…Oh never mind."

"Probably Flora threatening to castrate me before murdering me!" He joked feebly before waving the coachman to move off.

"I wouldn't joke about such things if I were you Walter." Emily called out smothering her laughter as she watched her son's face fall from a distance before heading back into the house; as usual it was up to her to sort out her son's mess, but perhaps a nice cup of hot chocolate might be enough of a peace offering to get Flora to at least listen to what she had to say.

- - -

Upstairs Flora had all but given up, no one had heard her, and no one was going to come to her aid. Whimpering slightly through the pain she slid down the wall unable to stop the tears that now fell down her face. What if something went wrong like with Rebecca and there was no Doctor here to save her or the child, what a tableau that would be for Walter when he finally deigned to let her out; coming to bed to find he'd killed them both. He'd be sorry then, Flora thought, concentrating on her anger in an effort to block out the pain but being unable to do anything but let it wash over her and bearing it as best she could.

It wouldn't be much longer now the contractions were coming much closer together and from the way they started in her back and spread out she realised she had been in labour hours without even realising it, and she had thought it was only back ache. Panting now from the exertion Flora made one final attempt to summon help, even if they could only be in time to help the baby it would be something, so taking a deep breath she began crawling across the room towards the door.

- - - -

In her entire life Grace had never felt so alone…she'd just lost the only person in the whole of Taplows that she felt she could talk too. She'd said her goodbyes to Lizzie earlier than the rest of the servants that morning and had not joined them in the courtyard to see Lizzie and the rest of the Earl's guests on their journey back to Scotland. She couldn't face all the questions, the knowing looks she was receiving from the staff as they all took in the purpley blue bruises covering her pale face.

She'd been keeping herself to herself as much as possible and this particular morning due to Mrs Corey's absence she had abandoned her duties in the still room and was currently pretending to sweep the top staircase, using her solitude as an excuse to do some daydreaming. She was under his power, she had no escape from Frank clutches. At this moment she needed rescuing, for the second time she needed rescuing from Frank Keneally. Things had been different the first time…this time however George couldn't feel further away.

There was nothing she could do except wait for a miracle. They'd all warned her about Frank constantly, even William Forest insisted she stay away from him. Of course she of all people knew what Frank was capable of and she'd heard the rumours about Frank's advances towards Lady Rebecca and Mrs Corey. But once again he'd managed to pull the wool over her eyes. After George's arrest he come across as so sweet and sincere towards her and when they were in India he was always there for her without forcing the issue. It had been almost perfect for a while between them, just as she had once planned, the two of them travelling together.

She had been in love with Frank once upon a time, or she thought she had been. But comparing it to how she felt for George it was nothing…she doubted George would ever return to Taplows. Surely he wasn't stupid enough to try something like that. The chances were he'd be caught any day now especially with half the country looking for him. The thought made her whole body shiver. When they caught him they'd…well he'd…face the noose. She couldn't bare to think about it.

Over the last year Grace's whole clang of friends had gradually gone their separate ways; Susan had been sacked, Charlotte was now married to a fine man, George had been arrested, the two of them not parting on the best of terms really and now Lizzie had gone away for goodness knows how long. She knew if she really needed to talk to someone Mrs Corey or Mrs Watson would be happy to lend an ear but somehow it just wasn't the same as having a close friend to talk too.

Suddenly the prospect of a life attached to Frank Keneally with no hope of escape overwhelmed her and she allowed the brush she'd been slowly brushing along the same stair for the last ten minutes to drop from her hands. Now unable to control the tears they began to spill down her cheeks and she sank to the floor, not caring anymore who stumbled across her slacking from her work.

Humming to herself Emily Corey finally left the kitchen carrying a tray laden down with all manner dishes that a concerned Felix had insisted on preparing himself all whilst muttering away about, 'men' being 'untrustworthy blaggards' and 'not worth the effort' whilst Emily leant against the welsh dresser tapping her feet and looking at her pocket watch. Making her way up the stairs she started running through in her mind all the different opening gambits she could try. She was so deep in thought that she only noticed Grace sprawled on the stairs when she almost tripped over her, spilling the tea all over the tray.

"Goodness me Miss May, what on earth are you doing down there?" She snaps sternly, taking in the brush thrown down on the stairs. "I nearly ended up flat on my face! If someone walked past and saw you lurking down there well you'd be up before Mrs Corey and Mr Jarvis straight away…Grace?" She asks her expression softening as she heard the spluttering as Grace sobbed into her hands.

Immediately concerned Emily settled the tray down on the stair, before awkwardly lowering herself next to Grace. "My dear shush shush," she whispered soothingly, as she took Grace into her arms stroking her hair gently. "I know it must be difficult with Lizzie gone as well now, but it's going to be alright…she'll be back before you know it."

Grace didn't answer, she didn't have the energy to explain her troubles to this woman. Instead she allowed Emily to hold her tightly, wishing she could stay in her arms forever. Never wanting her to let go in fear of having to face the real world once more. "Promise me if you are ever feeling lonely you'll come and speak to me, is that clear?" She asks softly, pulling away from her gradually and raising her chin gently to stare into her eyes making sure she understood. It was then she saw the bruising covering her face.

"How on earth did this…" she began, trailing off a different question replaced her former, who? It didn't take a moment for Emily to realise who it was. She'd seen the two of them together a lot recently, skulking about the house. It had seemed quite innocent at the start, a share look or a supportive pat on the back from Frank whenever George was mentioned. "Frank?..." Emily whispered to Grace, waiting for a nod from her. She received no gesture from her but the pleading look in her eyes told her everything she needed as confirmation.

"Grace dear you can't allow this to carry on," Emily whispers, tracing a gentle hand over the bruising masking her usually perfect face. "Tell Mr Jarvis," she suggested, wiping the tears from her face.

Grace couldn't help snorting at Emily's ridiculous suggestion, "He has no power over Frank anymore, what can he do?"

"This is not something that you can keep to yourself Grace. It'll happen again and it'll get worse-" She insists, only to be cut off.

"It never meant to happen, it was a complete accident. He promised me it'll never happen again." She was struggling to convince herself this, never mind Emily.

"That is what they always say dear, but I assure you dear there are not many men who hold to their word about something like this." Grace knew Emily was right but she couldn't bare to admit it.

"I wish George was here," She sobs into Emily's encircling arms once again.

"I know it's difficult sweetie but surely he wouldn't like the idea of you sitting back and allowing this to happen. Would he?" Curse this woman for always being right about everything, Grace couldn't help thinking. "Promise me this is where it ends, if he so much as touches you again you come straight to me or Mrs Corey. Yes?" Grace nodded, screwing up her eyes. Would she have the guts to go to someone if it did happen again?

After placing a gentle kiss on Grace's forehead, Emily rose picking up the sweeping brush Grace had dropped to the floor. "Now you take this downstairs straight away and get back to that still room, while I go have a little chat with a certain daughter-in-law of mine. Wish me luck." Grace manages a weak smile as she rises from the step, pulling up the tea tray and exchanging it for the brush.

Continuing up the stairs Emily thought hopelessly about Grace and how disgusted she was at the thought of Frank Keneally being in anyway blood related to her. She wasn't about to Walter about what Frank was up to now, that is the last thing Grace would want. If he so much as laid a finger on her again then she'd make sure he'd regret it. Her thoughts then returned to Flora, how on earth was she going to calm down a hormonally charged 8 and a half month pregnant woman, but before she could make up her mind she heard a sound that made her blood turn cold, Flora was screaming.

- - - -

Somewhere on the edges of the Earl's estate Walter Corey sat back in the carriage, but his mind was not on his surroundings or his jaunt into town but focused back on Taplows or more specifically on one person, his wife. Something was unsettling him, true their argument had been extremely disturbing but somehow he couldn't put his finger on precisely what it was, he just knew deep down in his bones something just wasn't right. Acting impulsively and realising the Earl would upbraid him for his reckless disobedience Jarvis leant out the window and yelled at the coachman to stop and turn around, he needed to get back at once.

- - - -

Meanwhile upstairs just as Flora had finally given up all hope the door to the sitting room was flung open and in dashed a distraught looking Emily.

"Flora oh my god…" She gasped dashing over to the overjoyed housekeeper.

"Emily." Flora cried out reaching out and grasping at her mother in law as if she were a life jacket flung to a drowning swimmer. "I was so afraid I would have to do this alone I can't do this I just can't…" She sobbed burying her head in the older woman's shoulder as Emily pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Yes you can, I'll go send for the doctor and…"

"There's no time." Flora screamed out tensing as yet another contraction swept over her. "Please don't leave me…" She added seizing the older woman's hand tightly in hers and refusing to let go.

"I will be right back, I give you my word and besides I need help to move you into the bedroom, you're in enough pain as it is without adding uncomfortable to the list."

"Be quick then!" Flora gasped. "This baby isn't going to wait for anyone."

Nodding Emily got to her feet and dashed down the corridor faster than she had moved in years, it wasn't long before she found Grace still lingering in the hallway and dragged her to help with Mrs Corey.

- - - -

It didn't take long for the news to spread around the entire household and other than the immediate family and Felix of course who was practically family at any rate there was none more concerned than Andrew Adams as he stood pacing up and down in the courtyard waiting for any sign of either the doctor or the missing Butler. Why did the Earl decide to send Jarvis off into town now of all times, in some ways he envied the Butler as he was being spared the agony of listening to Flora's screams which he had himself briefly heard whilst Emily had been dragged away from Flora's side long enough to order him about.

Listening to the obvious agony in her cries had brought it all back for him and he just preyed to whatever deity was listening that there would not be a repeat performance of that tragedy; if there were he knew Jarvis would never forgive himself for being away at such a time. However just as he was pondering that thought a carriage came clattering down the driveway and squinting against the oppressive midsummer sun Adams recognised the insignia on the side it was one of there's, perhaps the father to be would make it in time after all?

- - - -

Upstairs Emily had made Flora as comfortable as possible, the curtains had been drawn slightly to prevent the harsh sunlight from getting in her eyes and they had managed to wrestle the former housekeeper out of her cumbersome dress, so she was only dressed a slip in the oppressive midsummer heat.

"Why did your child have to pick the hottest day of the year?" Emily huffed good-naturedly as she fanned the panting Flora.

"Don't blame me its all Walter's fault!" Flora hissed between clenched teeth.

"Well the argument couldn't have helped…" Emily replied soothingly. "But I don't think you can blame all this on him, babies tend to come when they want.."

"No this is all his fault!" Flora screamed. "Putting me under all this stress… Surely the doctor warned him this might happen…Besides its his bloody fault in the first place." She added panting as another contraction hit.

"Oh well…" Emily replied unable to look the now smirking Grace-May in the face. "Nothing we can do about that now Flora dear I'm sure the Doctor will be here soon and Walter will have…"

"He'd better not come anywhere near me!" Flora retorted. "I swear if he does I will not be held responsible, this is all his fault!...I AM NEVER DOING THIS AGAIN!" She screamed out, unable to resist the urge to finally bear down and push. "Remember this Grace all men are evil beings I tell you…." She added as the worst of the contraction passed.

"Yes Mrs Ry…Corey." Grace replied politely as she mopped at the housekeepers brow with a damp flannel, for once finding herself agreeing with their former Housekeeper's assessment.

"Grace would you do something for me." Flora asked breathlessly.

"Of course anything?"

"When this is over and that no good scum of a husband of mine finally decides to put in an appearance I want you to go outside and tell him this is all his fault and that if even mentions more children he can give birth to them himself!"

"Well speaking of the devil…" Emily cut in laughing at Flora's turn of phrase as she moved away from the window, "I'd say he's just arrived…"

- - - -

"Mr Adams." Jarvis called out jumping down from the carriage the moment he saw his subordinate waiting for him, with a look of panic on his face. "What is it what's happening?"

"It seems your little one is anxious to put in an appearance Sir!" Adams retorted, watching as the Butler's eyes grew wild with fear.

"The doctor?" Jarvis gasped as they both darted back into the house scattering curious servants as they went.

"He's been sent for but according to your mother she doubts he'll make it in time." Adams retorted huffing slightly as he tried to keep up with the pace his panicking superior was setting and so only just catching him in time before he prised a startled maid out of the doorway. "You can't go in there sir." Adams exclaimed aghast shooing the worried girl aside and taking her place to block the door from the Butler

"But I have to see her." Jarvis argued his face growing steadily ashen as his wife's screams grew louder and more painful. "What if something happens I can't just stand here and let her go without knowing how much I love her, Dammit Andrew of anyone here I would have thought you would have understood that!"

Starting as if punched in the stomach Adams expression clouded with pain as he fought the impulse to thump the butler right between the eyes, but he suddenly realised now was not the time. "Aye mebbie I do but I am not letting you in sir, you have to let her finish this herself you'd only be in the way!"

"In the way? That is my wife and my child!" Jarvis snapped trying to physically drag the taller man out of his way but Adams stood his ground, refusing to budge an inch even when the Butler threatened him with the sack.

"It'll be alright sir." Adams whispered soothingly as he watched the defeated man slump against the far wall, his face creasing in anguish every time Flora screamed out in agony.

They seemed to last for an eternity, then finally another cry filled the air a much higher and shriller timbre than it's mother's and a shocked and relieved Jarvis suddenly stood up and bounded past a now unresisting Adams, pausing only for a moment to knock on the closed bedroom door. It felt like an eternity before he heard the flurry of skirts on the wooden floors and the door was finally opened by a smiling Emily behind whom he saw the most breathtaking of sights, a tired but radiant Flora holding a tiny screaming little bundle in her arms.

"Flora." Walter whispered as he stepped into the room causing her to look up at him for the first time and he noticed the tears running freely down her face.

"It's a little girl." She called out smiling through her tears as her husband finally closed the distance between them and took both his reasons for being into his arms.

- - - - -

"Well as I far as I can see both Mother and Baby are perfectly healthy Mr Jarvis, and very fortunate considering the unusual circumstances…." Doctor Evans trailed off smiling over at the concerned father who hadn't stopped hovering over his shoulder since the moment he had began his examination of his daughter.

"So everything is really alright she has all her fingers and toes and not too many of each?" Jarvis asked panicking

"Don't worry ten of each, I counted… Twice!" Doctor Evans joked.

"Now are you sure…" Jarvis began leaning over obviously intent on checking the doctor's arithmetic.

"Walter would you give the good Doctor room to breath!" Flora snapped from her position propped up against her pillows.

"I think I have a right to take an interest in my own daughter!" Jarvis snapped unable to keep the joy from his voice or his face as he said those words, repeating the phrase my daughter so softly and reverently that Flora's face melted at the sight and she couldn't find in her heart to stay angry with him.

"I suppose so…" She grudgingly admitted shaking her head as a warm grin spread over her tired but happy face.

"Well I'll leave you both two it, no doubt Mrs Corey will be wanting to get some sleep." Dr Evans muttered handing the squirming child back to her father who couldn't help staring down at her in wonder as she slowly opened her sleepy eyes seeming to regard him coolly for a moment almost as if assessing him and not finding him lacking before trustingly settling back to sleep.

"Are you going to stare at her all night?" Flora teased.

"I just can't believe she's actually here!" Walter exclaimed moving to sit next to his wife and laying their daughter gently in her arms whilst he wrapped one of his around Flora's shoulders. "Well mother tell me what are going to call her?"

"I have been thinking about that….And don't you go calling me that it makes me feel so old!" Flora replied leaning into his comforting embrace as she held her child close and rocked her gently marvelling at all her features so similar to those of her parents but in miniature.

"She looks like you, Mummy or do you prefer Mama..." Walter whispered teasingly before kissing her forehead gently.

"Yes but she has your long fingers and ears." Flora replied ignoring his jibe as if he had never made it.

"But not my nose, eh?" Jarvis joked.

"No fortunately not but I'm not sure whose it is as it's not mine either…" Flora trailed off before realisation struck "Emily's nose I think, don't you?"

"You're right." Walter replied brushing his finger gently down their daughters nose then across her cheek. "But she's definitely got your mouth and colouring…"

"She's doomed then!" Flora sniggered.

"She's lovely and going to be a real heartbreaker just you wait and see I'll have to keep her locked in her room and beat the beau's off with a very long stick!"

"Walter don't start already, you're going to have to let her start walking out with gentlemen eventually…"

"Yes when she's thirty perhaps!" He sniggered.

"But how about we wait until she is big enough to actually walk before we worry about such things?" Flora added sternly, before her expression suddenly softened as she cooed gently at the tiny child sleeping soundly in her arms.

"Yes Mother!" Jarvis retorted unable to resist stroking the soft silky down of black hair that peeped up from under the blanket.

"Don't call me that I'm not your mother, and the staff are confused enough as it is without you calling both Emily and myself mother as well!" Flora retorted shifting around so she could lay the baby on Walter's chest, watching in delight as his face contorted in momentary panic before he realised she wasn't going to slip or fall.

"Talking of names my dearest…." Jarvis trailed off softly. "Isn't there something we should be doing?"

"Well don't get angry but I sort of already have…"

"Go on just as long as I can pronounce it!" Jarvis huffed but he was unable to keep up his pretence of annoyance in the face of his wife's pleading pout.

"Eileánóir" Flora whispered lovingly stroking her daughter's chubby cheek. "Eileánóir Kiera."

"They do suit her but aren't they a bit grand for everyday use?" Walter began hesitantly. "I mean Eileánóir Kiera Corey is something of a mouthful…"

"Are you saying our daughter deserves a boring common little name like Maud or Doris just because they are easier for you to yell out when you're in one of your tempers?" Flora snapped her normally serene face flushing dark with anger.

"No…Never my dearest I like them…No I love them really! Eileánóir Kiera it is!" Jarvis stammered acutely aware of the impact his wife's sour mood was having on the child balanced on his chest who had awoken and was starting to grisle.

"Shush Eileánóir it's alright mama is here! She looks just like you when she pulls that face!" Flora whispered teasingly picking up her daughter and rocking her slowly and after a few minutes she had gone back to sleep. "And for your information Eileánóir was my maternal grandmother's name and she never found it a mouthful and Kiera is just perfect for her as in Irish it means small and dark."

"She seems to like it at any rate." Jarvis whispered softly moving from the bed into the sitting room and bringing in the bassinette that Emily had moved in there out of the way whilst Flora was in labour. "Now Flora dearest don't you think you should put her down and try and get some sleep yourself…You know what the doctor said whenever she is sleeping you should try and sleep."

"I know but I just can't believe that she's here!" Flora replied softly before reluctantly handing her daughter over to her husband watching his every move like a hawk as he gently placed her down in the bassinette before tugging the beautifully worked baby blanket over her.

"Your mother made it." Flora whispered sleepily anticipating his question before he asked. "I have just to add the initials in the centre and it's finished."

"Yes well you can do that tomorrow I'll look over her this evening now please Flora try and rest." Walter added in his best strict husband and father tone which only caused his wife to snigger in amusement and reply in her meekest wifely tone, "Yes Walter whatever you say Walter!", before resting her weary head on her pillow and surprisingly drifting right off to sleep.

- - - - -

So exhausted from her ordeal Taplows newest mother slept far into the wee hours of the morning, waking groggily she immediately turning over in bed to peer into the bassinette and feeling a momentary flash of panic when her daughter wasn't there as expected. Sitting up sharply she ignored the screech of protest from her stomach muscles and swung her legs off over the side of the bed, testing her feet and finding them capable of supporting her she grasped a nearby shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders before heading towards the sitting room. However she had barely taken more then a few steps when the muffled cry of her child could be heard even through the closed door, sighing in relief Flora crossed the room and pulling the door open slightly she peered through the crack. What she saw almost made her cry with happiness and burst from laughter.

Walter was pacing the room a stressed expression on his normally composed face as he tried everything to get his daughter to quieten down. "Come on Ellie please be good and go back to sleep for daddy….Mummy needs her rest and we don't want to have to go ask Grandma for help cause we both know we'll never get rid of her again…No we won't, no we won't….." He added in the most adorable baby voice as he rocked his now screeching daughter.

"She's probably hungry." Flora whispered from the doorway watching in delight as an embarrassed Walter whirled round and she caught sight of his face properly for the first time. "Walter Corey how on earth did you get baby powder on your face?...And all over the table…And the Floor!" She added as she caught sight of the bombsight their sitting room had become.

"Flora I thought you were…Well have you ever tried opening one of those tins all whilst balancing a baby on your other arm….?"

"No." Flora replied giggling as she took the child from his arms checking that he had secured the new nappy correctly before settling down in the fireside chair. "But there is nothing to stop you clearing it up now! Personally I'm amazed you didn't cover Eileánóir in it as well but I suppose it's a good job your mother made you practice on little Hugo." She added unbuttoning her nightgown and positioning the baby just as Emily had shown her before, wincing slightly as her daughter latched on incorrectly before finally getting the idea although even then it wasn't the most comfortable of experiences. Looking up she expected to see her husband scurrying around clearing up the mess he had caused but instead he was frozen to the spot staring at her mesmerised. "What?" She asked jolting him from his trace like state.

"I…nothing." He trailed off uncomfortably not knowing quite where to look. "I'll clear up this mess then be out of your way." He muttered hurrying about his task.

"Walter." Flora called teasingly. "You're not embarrassed are you?"

"No!" He replied defensively still unable to look at her preferring to gaze at a spot several feet above her head.

"Good then come here." Flora retorted.

"But the powder…"

"Leave it!" Flora commanded a small smile playing about her lips as her red faced husband made her way across the room. "My shoulder is cramping would you rub it better for me I don't want to disturb 'Ellie' as you put it!"

"But…" Jarvis began to protest before catching the no nonsense look on his wife's face and grudgingly capitulating and moving to rub her tensed shoulder.

"See there's nothing to be embarrassed about." Flora cooed.

"I said I wasn't embarrassed!" Walter hissed glaring down at the top of his wife's head.

"Fine uncomfortable then but you're going to have to get used to it; I can't have you running out the room every time she needs feeding."

"I'm not uncomfortable…I just realised our lives are never going to be the same again." He added softly. "It may sound selfish but I guess I finally grasped I am always going to have to share you from now on, that the two of you are going to have a bond that I am not going to be able to be part of, just seeing you with her made it all finally seem so real."

"Pardon but it was very real for me when I thought I might burst in two giving birth to her, something I almost had to do all by myself I might add!" Flora snapped. "Don't you go thinking I had forgotten all about that Walter because I hadn't and you have still to provide a decent explanation for your involvement with one of my so called best friends to stab me in the back!" She hissed trying to keep a lid on her hormonally charged temper for the sake of Ellie was contentedly suckling away oblivious to the brewing argument between her parents. "So don't you dare complain now about feeling left out because you have no idea what being really left out feels like."

"I only did it because I thought it was the right thing to do, I tried talking to you, hell Felix and even Molly tried to talk to you and make you see sense! We were only acting on the doctor's instructions…"

"Don't you dare blame the Doctor or Felix for this!" Flora retorted angrily getting to her feet and unintentionally dislodging an annoyed Ellie who began to grisle loudly causing her mother to panic and move to burp her. "From what I saw it was mostly you and Molly's doing, the Earl didn't mention anything about the Chef complaining about my ineptitude, just her! So why should I believe a word you say about the business?"

"I'm telling you they were involved as well, I asked them for help and they willingly gave it I had any idea you were going to go into…" Walter began but a now slowly fuming Flora cut him off.

"And whose fault was that I might add? First you start thing whole thing off with that impromptu and medically ill-advised little romp last night then you and your bit on the side expose me to extreme stress and emotional distress and then to top it all off you lock me in a room at the top of the house and then prevent anyone from coming to my assistance! And why?"

"Look Flora…"

"No don't you look Flora me Walter Corey!" Flora spat. "I'm tired and angry and your daughter is tired and hungry and I can't cope with arguing about this now…" Flora broke off her whole body wracking with unexpected sobs as she sank to the floor.

"Flora sweetheart." Walter called out taking his at first resistant wife into his arms and rocking both her and the baby gently. "You have my word, on my life…On our precious daughter's life that nothing improper has ever passed between Mrs Watson and myself, I admit having her take over your position was my idea and I encouraged the others to help but I swear I had no idea you would be so distressed, but honestly love how on earth would you cope having to get up in a matter of hours to organise the housemaids or check the stocks…"

"I'd have found a way…"

"You'd have run yourself into the ground with exhaustion and made both yourself and Ellie ill because of it! And you surely wouldn't want her to suffer?"

"No but you could have…"

"Talked to you? I tried my love I really did but you wouldn't listen you just kept pushing yourself too hard as usually and even I had no idea it would come out like this I promise you, I didn't expect his lordship to take the initiate for the first time in his life and actually sack you, I thought he would insist you take an extended leave."

"So you don't think I'm a bad housekeeper then?" Flora whispered burying her head in his shoulder.

"No never you're the best housekeeper I've ever worked with!" Jarvis replied immediately stroking her hair soothingly. "But isn't our daughter more important than any house or jumped up bunch of pompous aristocrats?"

"Of course I know that!" Flora snapped. "And I can understand why you did it! Even if I don't agree with your methods you did what you thought was best for our family but Molly Watson, she didn't just make those things up earlier she meant them!"

"Flora…" Jarvis began but suddenly stopped when his wife cut him off warningly.

"Don't you defend her Walter unless you want to give me reason to doubt your word!" She hissed softly.

"Fine I won't I'll leave your relationship with your friend to you!" Walter replied conciliatorily. "I'm not worried about Molly Watson I'm worried about you and Ellie you're all that matters and if you want me to go tell his lordship what an insensitive arse he was to my beloved wife then I will do it…" He trailed off waiting for her to tell him not to. "Flora I…"

"It's alright Walter I'm not so angry I'm suicidal!" She giggled. "She's gone back to sleep." She added shifting the sleeping Ellie in her arms.

"Well then that means so should you Mrs Corey!" Walter replied helping his exhausted wife back to her feet and assisting her back into the bedroom watching with pride as she put their sleeping daughter back into her bassinette.

"So tell me Mrs Corey." He added jokingly as he helped her into bed before following her a moment later and pulling his unresisting wife into a loving embrace. "Just how on earth am I supposed to carryout Miss May's instruction?"

"Hmm?" Flora murmured sleepily.

"That next time I'm having the baby?"

"Oh we'll think of something…" Flora yawned nuzzling into his shoulder and falling fast asleep whilst a contented Walter cradled her safely in his arms.

- - - - -

The next morning a very tired and very very late Walter Corey virtually tore himself from his wife and daughter's side heading towards his customary morning meeting with the Earl still buttoning up his shirt and tugging on his waistcoat and tails. He had made it all the way down the corridor and almost into the main house before he was ambushed by his underbutler.

"Good Morning Sir!" Adams greeted, more than a slight tone of surprise under his thick Scottish brogue.

"Good Morning Mr Adams, going somewhere special?" The Butler asked his eyes narrowing in suspicion as they lighted on the household books under his subordinate's arm.

"Ahhh well yes…I thought perhaps you might appreciate some time off sir, considering the circumstances!" Adams retorted shifting the books guiltily.

"As kind as that sentiment is…" Jarvis began holding his hands out for the books. "I think I had better deal with his lordship."

"As you wish." Adams replied reluctantly before handing the precious tomes over to their rightful owner and turning on his heels heading back to the safety of the servants quarters before suddenly stopping and calling back over his shoulder. "Congratulations Sir, a little girl I believe."

"Indeed!" Jarvis replied his entire face lighting up with the joy of fatherhood. "She's perfect, fortunately the image of her mother….Thank you Andrew for your help last night I really appreciated your support."

"Aye Sir." Adams replied unable to meet his superior's eye as all this mushy nonsense was making him increasingly uncomfortable. "Is there any instructions for the staff, anything you want to pass on…Her name for example? I know some ladies who are gathered around a certain fireplace making the last minute finishing touches to a particular present are most anxious to know."

"Eileánóir Kiera Corey" Jarvis replied proudly, this time not even stumbling over the pronunciation.

"Lovely…Her mother's choice I suppose?" Adams replied smiling knowingly. "It's just I think the ladies might struggle to fit it all on let alone spell it correctly." He added surprised to see Jarvis practically chuckle in guilty collusion.

"I know the feeling, but for everyday use its Ellie." The Butler replied pulling out his pocket watch and swearing when he saw the lateness of the hour. "I'm sorry Andrew but I really must be going, and tell that certain group of ladies I appreciate their eagerness but if they could hold off from visiting today, Mrs Corey needs a little time to recuperate…"

"Aye Sir." Adams nodded watching as the panicking Jarvis turned and darted down the corridor and for a moment he almost regretted not telling the Butler about his attire but then with a somewhat evil smile Adams realised he would find out sooner rather than later.

Meanwhile outside the Earl's study Jarvis skidded to a halt just as the great grandfather clock began to chime the late hour, panicking the Butler shot his hand out and stopped the clock before it could boom out just how late he was to the entire house. As a result he caught the sniggered whisper between the two footmen who stood as still as statues at the bottom of the grand staircase, and glancing up he caught his reflection in the long mirror. Whimpering slightly in surprise he quickly solved the problem by shifting the books into the crook of his arm and then with lightening speed fastening the open buttons of his fly, thanking his lucky stars that that morning he had remembered to put on his longjohns after all.

However despite having saved him from making more of an idiot of himself in front of his lord and master Jarvis was not about to forgive a certain Mr Matkin for that comment any time soon, the nerve of it implying he'd been off getting a bit of relief rather than by his wife's bedside, was more than Jarvis was prepared to tolerate. So putting on his best butler face he strode over the two footmen looking the pair up and down he tugged their wigs straight and huffed at the creases in their stockings before turning as if to head back to the Earl's study but not before landing a firm clip round the ear on a certain Mr Matkin, who flinched holding his now throbbing ear.

"You deserved that!" Joe muttered under his breath, unable to keep the smugness from his tone as Fred glared at him.

"Joe…" Fred began tp protest but the other footmen cut him off.

"No Fred, not all of us enjoy hearing you make crass and vulgar comments about your superiors, and Jarvis is certainly furious you're lucky all you got was a clip round the ear!" He added showing wisdom beyond his years.

"Ahhhhhh fiddlesticks!" Fred snorted turning his back on his former friend, all that lovey dovey nonsense had rotted Joe's brain and he was damned if he was going to start listening to it.

Meanwhile in the Earl's study the Butler had finally managed to slink in after a quiet knock.

"What time do you call this Jarvis?" The Earl's voice boomed out from behind the desk, not even gracing his butler with a glance.

"My apologies My Lord I was detained."

"Nothing life threatening I hope, I noticed the Doctor's carriage was here again last night, honestly the amount of times you call him out we might as well make him a permanent office here!" The Earl retorted snorting at his own joke.

"No nothing life threatening Sir it's just my daughter surprised us with her impromptu arrival late yesterday afternoon."

"Oh so that's what all the fuss was about I thought at least one of your lot was dieing from the carry on, honestly at one point I thought I was going to have get up and pour my own brandy!…A girl eh? Well better luck next time, I swear the only reason daughters exist are to try their father's patience, give them grey hair and attempt to spend the entire contents of their wallets!"

"Well it will be while before there is any risk of that My Lord…Now arrangements for the next weeks dinner are in hand, and chef has prepared a preliminary menu for your scrutiny…" Jarvis trailed off handing over the scrawled paper, which normally Flora would have written up in her neat script, and for the first time Jarvis thought that from a professional point of view he might have been somewhat hasty replacing his experienced housekeeper with a relative unknown.

"Yes…Yes…" The Earl mumbled placing the paper on his desk without even glancing at it.

"Then there are the arrangements for the summer games, the other household athletes will be arriving in a matter of days and we have informed them of the new competitions you asked for, the highland fling amongst others and the estate manager assures me he has the necessary timbers already culled…"

"Yes thank you Jarvis! However we are going to have to put that all off for a bit...My cousin has been so kind as to invite me down to Brighton for the rest of the summer...He seems to think the break from Taplows and all this mess" The Earl broke off waving around vaguely. "Well my health has already suffered as a result and well the sea air would be beneficial i am sure...So if you could make the arrangements, i'd like to leave by the end of the week, so see to it will you!"

Stunned to silence and unable to quell the burst of panic at the thought of being torn from his new family before he had even the chance to settle into the idea. "Yes Mi'lord." Jarvis could only gasp, clutching his books so tightly his fingers turned white. "How large a staff will you be requiring, will Lord and Lady Dalrimple-Sykes be joining you...Or Lady Mary?"

"Good Gods no! I need a proper break, i'm not taking that rag tag lot with me...No as long as i have a footman, my valet...Oh and send that Adams fellow along for good measure, need someone to keep the fellows in line. I am sure you will be able to keep the place from falling apart in , my absense?"

"Of course Mi'lord." Jarvis muttered, unable to keep in the breath he had been holding, and the look of relief from his face; which the Earl duely noted and his expression darkened.

"Now!" The Earl snapped, causing his Butler to glance up at him in surprise. "I am sure you are anxious to return to your wife!" He added a somewhat bitter tone evident in his voice as his eyes stared off into the distance so the butler took that as his cue to leave.

However just as he was opening the door the Earl added something, and if Jarvis had not been set in his strictest Butler mode he might have gaped in surprise "Jarvis a word of advice don't put the next one off for long, in the long run…" But whatever he was going to say was left unsaid as he quickly waved his Butler out. Shaking his head Jarvis closed the door besides him, considering the history he understood what his lordship was trying to say, but as he sneaked off to visit the two lovely ladies in his life he considered this might not be the best of times to mention it to Flora.

- - - -


End file.
